London – Mick and Liesel's Antics

A few pairs

For some people, the second day of the new year began with a long Uber ride across London to the airport. Farewell, Una, Phil and Kiran, it’s been a gas!

For Liesel, Leslie and me, it began with a leisurely hotel breakfast. And again we recalled the time when Liesel’s Dad, Klaus, was staying at a Premier Inn some years ago. At breakfast, he was asked how many sausages he wanted. “Oh, six please.” Or eight. Depends who’s telling the story.

We parked up at Mottingham Station and caught the train to Waterloo. While my wife and her mother were in Boots, I enjoyed listening to today’s busker.

Let’s hope her partner’s surgery goes well. We returned to Gudrun Sjoden as Liesel needed to return one of the items purchased a few days ago. While she and Mom browsed and tried on everything, I went for a walk, passing by some familiar shops, such as Forbidden Planet and Mildred’s. I did see an urban fox, something we’d missed so far in London. The sad thing is, it was dead, stuffed and in a shop window.

I walked as far as the National Portrait Gallery café where I sat underneath Audrey Hepburn’s bum while wolfing down a sandwich and a coffee.

While I was wandering around the gallery, admiring some portraits, Liesel and Leslie arrived for their lunch too.

Our late afternoon and evening were very lazy and the next day, it was time to go west.

Liesel’s cousin Andi and her husband Steve live in Richmond, and we’d planned to stay with them for a few nights. It wasn’t really on the way, but we visited Ightham Mote in Kent, another National Trust property. It was, as they say, a crisp but sunny day, the more remarkable because today was the first time this Winter we’d had to scrape ice off the car.

We had a nice, leisurely walk around the grounds. There is a moat and I still don’t know what a ‘Mote’ is in this context. According to Wikipedia, the architectural writer John Newman describes Ightham Mote as “the most complete small medieval manor house in the county”.

A member of staff advised us to look out for the mice and we did see a few on our wander.

My sympathies are with the gardeners. I had a 30+ year battle with bindweed in Chessington and I am convinced that after the nuclear apocalypse, it will be the last surviving species along with the cockroaches.

In the courtyard, we found a large 19th century dog kennel. There was no large 19th century dog, though, so I asked Liesel to give an idea of scale.

The house itself was interesting, lots of old stuff of course, and some humorous cartoons on the wall, such as the snooker player who might be a Champion, if there were a Championship.

The drive along the M25 wasn’t too bad and we arrived in Richmond just as the Sun was setting. Not long after, we saw the Moon and Saturn.

The other fascinating celestial object bright enough to see in twilight? Well, it turned out to be an aeroplane on its descent to Heathrow Airport. We found Andi and Steve’s house easily enough and it was good to see them again after all this time.

Steve was in charge of breakfast and he made a wonderful omelette for us. That set me up nicely for my trip across London, thank you very much. I can’t believe I’ve known Marie now for 35 years: we worked together at Kingston University. She lives in Orpington and if she hadn’t had prior engagements, I could have seen her while we were staying in nearby Eltham! D’oh!

On the way, I stopped off at the Southbank Centre for a coffee and to see what was going on.

Fred Tschida’s spinning, glowing work is recreated at a technically ambitious scale. In this work, two parallel rings of brilliant orange-red neon – the natural colour emitted by the gas when high-voltage electricity passes through it – rotate at a slower speed of 15 rpm to produce the illusion, when photographed with a long exposure, of a giant glowing orb. So says the blurb. But it wasn’t rotating at 15 rpm when I was there. And I couldn’t find anyone to wind it up. So, to be contrary, I just took a still shot.

I walked over the Jubilee bridge and caught the train to Orpington from Charing Cross. This was followed by a bus ride and a bit of a walk, during which I very nearly missed a very important alleyway.

It was lovely to see Marie again, and to meet her Mum for the first time. Marie very kindly fed me as if I were a goose being fattened up for Christmas! Sorry, I forgot to take a picture of my host.

Before returning to Richmond, I thought I’d pay a quick visit to Battersea Power Station. Not to visit the new shopping centre, there are shopping centres all over the place. No, I wanted to see the sign outside the underground station that says ‘Battersea Power Station Station’.

You can only imagine the waves of disappointment and dismay that engulfed me when I realised I’d been hoaxed.

Meanwhile, Liesel, Leslie, Andi and Steve had had a good, if slightly damp, day at RHS Wisley Gardens, just off the A3.

They also had a late lunch at The Anchor, Pyrford Lock. No homity pie on this occasion though. So I think it’s fair to say, none of us needed a full evening meal.

It snowed in Manchester and we’d missed it, oh well, never mind, but our grandchildren enjoyed the experience.

‘Twas damp the day we visited the Victoria and Albert Museum but we thought we’d stay dry as we walked along the tunnel from South Ken tube station to the museum. But the tunnel was closed, so we had to walk outside, in the drizzle.

We admired the tapestries from the Mughal empire, the detail is incredible.

Twill-weave cotton and linen mixture, embroidered with silk thread in chain stitch. Gujarat, for the western market. About 1725-50.

Export embroideries of this kind were based on contemporary chintz patterns, with designs being sent by the Dutch and English East India Companies to both the Coromandel Coast in South-East India for chintzes and Gujarat in the North-West for embroideries. No, of course I didn’t commit that to memory.

‘Laughing Matters’ is a display of comedy objects and artefacts from the last 200 years. A lot of the items wouldn’t be accepted as entertainment today and I probably shouldn’t have laughed at some of them: how did they get away with that, even in the 1960s, 1970s?

We had a look at the jewellery too. I couldn’t quite capture the coloured glints from the diamonds.

If this were a shop, of course I would have bought this tiara for my beloved, but it was a museum exhibit, so I couldn’t. Oh well, never mind.

This tiara, from 1903, of graduated flaming hearts and C-scrolls was inspired by a vision of France before the Revolution. Louis Cartier encouraged his designers to sketch 18th-century ironwork and architectural ornament in Paris and Versailles, and to study engraved jewellery designs.

Consuelo, Duchess of Manchester, was a prominent American heiress who married into the British nobility in 1876. The Duke of Portland recorded that she ‘took Society completely by storm by her beauty, wit and vivacity and it was soon at her very pretty feet’.

France; Cartier, Paris, with diamonds supplied by the Duchess of Manchester Gold and silver with diamonds; the C-scroll at each end is set with paste (glass). No, I didn’t memorise this info either.

I was very pleased to see Edward Scissorhand’s hand, though, mostly because if you’d asked me where it was, I doubt I would have guessed the V&A.

Back in Richmond, we walked down the road to The Prince’s Head pub for our evening meal. This is the pub featured in the popular TV series Ted Lasso. While the carnivores had roast meat or fish and chips, I enjoyed my roasted vegetable and feta pithivier. No, I’ve never seen that word before, either, but it’s just a posh French word for a puff pastry pie. The staff get their entertainment from listening to us customers struggling to pronounce le mot. The meal was delicious, though

We left Richmond early(-ish), hoping to beat the traffic home, this being the end of the Christmas and New Year holiday period, when we thought most people would be returning home. In the end, the drive wasn’t too bad.

It didn’t take too long to get back into our normal routine at home. Apart from, we did experience some cold and some snow. The temperature hovered around freezing for a couple of days, and it was a bit icy.

We did go into Manchester for an art show. What better way to mark what would have been David Bowie’s 77th birthday than by seeing fellow artist David Hockney at work? Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) was the name of the show at Factory International.

David Hockney himself took us on a personal journey through sixty years of his art in this vibrant immersive exhibition. With huge state-of-the-art projections and a revolutionary sound system, Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) let us experience the world through David Hockney’s eyes. We saw his work from LA to Yorkshire, and up to the present day in Normandy. The show was an incredible opportunity to get to know one of the great popular geniuses of the art world, still experimenting with new technology to create beauty and wonder. We watched Hockney experiment with perspective, use photography as a way of ‘drawing with a camera’, capture the passing of time in his polaroid collages and the joy of sSpring on his iPad – and he showed us why only paint can properly convey the hugeness of the Grand Canyon. The specially composed score by Nico Muhly was fantastic too, not intrusive at all.

Liesel and Leslie in a Hockney landscape

And finally, one more time: Happy New Year! I stole this fascinating piece of mathematical trivia from someone on the internet: merci beaucoups!

Alaskans in London

While we were asleep in Chessington, good friends of ours were flying into Heathrow Airport all the way from Anchorage. Una, Phil and Kiran were visiting London for a few days before setting off for Barcelona, where Kiran will be studying for the next six months.

Today’s adventure began with a drive along the wonderful M25 to meet and greet them at the airport. No way could we all fit in our car, even without travellers’ luggage. So Liesel drove with the bags and her Mom to Una’s accommodation in Eltham. Meanwhile, my mission, which I was happy to accept, was to escort the visitors on public transport.

The first experience wasn’t very welcoming: we had to stand most of the way on the Piccadilly line train from Heathrow to Piccadilly Circus. So many people, so many huge cases.

It was a drab day and despite appearances, this really is a colour photo of Eros. It was fun showing visitors the sights and sites of our capital city. We certainly did a lot of walking over the next few days.

Trafalgar Square’s fourth plinth has a new display.

Mil Veces un Instante (A thousand times an Instant) by Teresa Margolles

It’s a cuboid constructed from the face casts of 726 trans, non-binary and gender non-conforming people from the UK and Mexico, where the artist, Teresa Margolles, comes from.

More details here, at least until a new display comes along!

Our first choice for lunch was the crypt of St Martin in the Fields. But it wasn’t yet open. We went into the church itself, but we left fairly quickly as there was a service taking place. We walked on towards Leicester Square where we enjoyed a light breakfast.

Whitehall was busy and there were no protesters at the gates of Downing Street. Maybe it was too cold. Maybe there’s nothing to protest about, any more.

It was definitely a day to be a tourist. We didn’t join the queue, though, to have our photo taken by a particular telephone box with Big Ben, Elizabeth Tower, in the background.

You can see it was still not yet noon. And it was still too early to check in at the flat, so we made our way to Oxford Circus.

Walking up Regent Street, I pointed out the balcony at BBC Broadcasting House where U2 had performed a few years ago: Phil and Una are big U2 fans. We intruded on a church service taking place in All Souls, just over the road. That’s two. Keep forgetting it’s Sunday. Oops.

There were a couple of shops that Kiran wanted to visit, the sort of shop that I would never normally darken the doors of.

Sorry to say, I found the display of sewing machines here in AllSaints more interesting than the fashions. Although I was nearly tempted to buy a nice, fluffy, warm jumper. Nearly.

We also visited Liberty, a place I don’t think I’ve been inside for half a century. The main reason was to visit the loo, although it was interesting to watch the other shoppers going about their business. And I did compliment the shop assistant who was dressed as a rag doll. Yeah, I know: creepy old man.

Phil and Una were impressed by the Christmas lights in Regent Street, and of course we’d come back to see them illuminated at some point.

While walking down Regent Street, I had to show them Heddon Street, the location of David Bowie’s photoshoot for the cover of his Ziggy Stardust album.

Funny thing is, I don’t think anyone believed me when I told them this was the London Eye. It’s really Lost Echoes by Charlotte Colbert, a new addition to this area, where there are a few Bowie-themed establishments.

More pounding the streets, over to Seven Dials. A long queue at the fish and chip shop deterred us, and Seven Dials Market was very busy too.

Check-in time was 3pm, so we found our way to Eltham by train. Liesel brought the luggage over, and the visitors settled into the flat. Promptly falling asleep. Tired, jet-lagged travellers, all.

Liesel, Leslie and I were staying at a Premier Inn nearby.

After a good night’s sleep, we all met up at the flat, greeted by a flock of noisy green parrakeets.

We planned to go to Greenwich this morning. Train to Lewisham then DLR. Easy. Except it was a fast train and it didn’t stop at Lewisham. Plan B then, go on the Jubilee line from Waterloo. We had a pleasant walk, seeing more of Greenwich than anticpated. And it was good to see the masts of the Cutty Sark over the rooftops, confirming we were heading in the right direction, even if Google Maps was joshing with us, changing its mind about which direction we should be walking in.

We wandered around Greenwich Market, to pass the time, and bought some snacks. After a coffee break, we boarded the boat for our cruise on the Thames. It was hard to know which side to sit, left or right, port or starboard, since both sides of the river have plenty of things to see.

Neither Liesel nor I could remember any of the famous ‘celebs’ who live in these apartments. And of course, they’re well out of our price range.

We were very lucky, though. I’ve only seen Tower Bridge raised twice before, but today was my third time. There was no sign of a tall ship, so I assume it was just a regular test. Perfect timing, though.

Phil and I were the only ones in our group to brave the upper deck, outside in the chilly wind. I did feel sorry for the girl behind the bar. I don’t think any of us passengers bought anything from her. Perhaps the sign saying ‘Cash Only’ didn’t help.

We sailed under more London bridges before docking at Westminster Pier. It was a very smooth voyage. We then walked back along the river, admiring the real London Eye, now wholly visible, not half hidden in very low cloud like it was yesterday.

We walked to the the fish & chip shop, Rock and Sole Plaice, and again, there was quite a long queue. This time, though, we decided to join and wait. Una and Liesel went off to browse another clothes shop, one of Liesel’s favourites, Gudrun Sjoden. I paid a quick visit to Seven Dials Market, thinking I’d get some lunch here since I wasn’t interested in fish & chips. Well, it was full. Queues at every food outlet, no spare tables. I did come across a hero of mine, though:

It looks like a Banksy but I don’t think it is. Eventually, the six of us found ourselves n the basement of Rock and Sole Plaice, and I was pleased to see they had pies on the menu too. Cheese, onion and potato for me. Plus, I introduced our visitors to mushy peas. Unimpressed is the word, I think.

As staunch royalists, of course we had to pay a visit to Buckingham Palace. We walked via Covent Garden Market, Trafalgar Square again, but not under Admiralty Arch which was covered in hoarding, along the Mall where we mingled with thousands of other visitors.

We’d noticed lots of barriers and fences everywhere, probably to be used for crowd control on New Years’ Eve. Leslie was getting tired so she and Liesel returned to our hotel by taxi, tube and train. Phil, Una, Kiran and I walked across Green Park to catch a bus back to Oxford Circus. At last, it was dark enough to fully appreciate the Christmas lights.

Kiran and Una wanted to go shopping so Phil and I went on a pub crawl. When I say ‘pub crawl’, I mean we visited four pubs before finding one that wasn’t too crowded, too noisy, and we even found a couple of seats at the Red Lion. So we had a pint of beer, Sam Smiths bitter in my case, which I don’t think I’ve imbibed for several years. We were entertained by a group of young lads playing darts, hindered by the fact that they couldn’t agree on the exact location of the oche, the throw line. Like the rest of the carpet, it was well-worn.

There was no 4G signal here, so I had to send an SMS to Liesel asking her to let Una know where we were. Una and Kiran found us, and while they enjoyed more beer, I set off back to the hotel. On the walk back from the railway station, I admired some local street art.

Well done Year 4 at St Olave’s Prep School

Meanwhile, Phil, Una and Kiran visited Hamley’s and met a very imposing figure.

Back home up north, Jenny and family visited Dunham Massey to see the lights and succeeded in not tripping over the hundreds of miles of cables.

In other news, let us congratulate nephew Robert and his fiancée Cristy on their announcement! Yes, great news from Vancouver. Time to buy a new hat.

Even though Borough Market is one of our favourites in London, we didn’t pay a visit on this occasion. Phil, Una and Kiran did though, along with thousands of other people.

Liesel, Leslie and I visited Waterloo Station to begin our walk along the South Bank. There’s a new installation in the station, designed to acknowledge and celebrate the outstanding contribution and dedication of the Windrush Generation to British history,

The monument symbolises the courage, commitment and resilience of the thousands of men, women and children who travelled to the UK from 1948 to 1971.

It has been created as a permanent place of reflection fostering greater understanding of the Windrush Generation’s talent, hard work and loyalty to Britain, inspiring future generations forever.

Again, we passed by many fences and barriers, plus hoarding that was hiding a lot of building and refurbishment work. These days, you need a ticket to go into London for the New Year’s Eve revelries, but Liesel and I strongly suspected we’d all be in bed well before midnight.

We’d had a hotel breakfast, so at Tate Modern, we just needed a quick snack really. Liesel and I had very different ideas about what to eat:

After crossing the Millenium Bridge towards St Paul’s Cathedral, we easily found the required bus stop.

We’d arranged to meet our Alaskan visitors outside the British Museum, which I thought was less busy than usual: there wasn’t a long queue outside, with people waiting for their bags to be searched.

We all spent time admiring the Parthenon Marbles and reading the story. Who knows? Maybe one day, they will be returned to Greece.

It’s a big Museum and would need many more visits to see everything. Has anyone, ever, done so?

I couldn’t find the mummified worm, but we did see other mummified animals upstairs. There’s only so long one can walk slowly around such places, so a cup of tea and a slice of cake is always welcome afterwards.

Una was so tired, she fell asleep and missed out on joining the rest of us for our most enjoyable evening meal in Bromley’s Aqua Bar and Grill. Afterwards, Liesel, Leslie, Phil, Kiran and I squoze into our small car, but at least we didn’t have to shoe-horn Una into the boot. After dropping them off at the flat, the three of us returned to our hotel to see in the new year. We heard fireworks at midnight, but I for one didn’t bother getting up to look out of the window.

2025 began with us heading for Canary Wharf where we’d planned to have breakfast at Dishoom. Where? Each Dishoom is a love letter to Bombay – its food and its culture, its many varied people, its rich history and its endless eccentricities.

I do like seeing works of art out in the streets, and when I first saw this one, I wondered whether it might be a depiction of a mother and child. But no.

We passed this item as we walked from Canary Wharf Station to the restaurant, where we met up with our visitors. Our waiter was very helpful and friendly and we all enjoyed our meal. Vegan sausage and fried eggs in a naan roll for me. And about three pints of sweet, spicy chai.

Outside, the wind was picking up, and it was beginning to rain a bit. Liesel and her Mom retired to the hotel while the rest of us went over to Kings Cross to visit Harry Potter’s Platform 9¾. The queue for photos was ridiculously long. The queue for the shop wasn’t too bad, so we waited and, again, I didn’t purchase a wand because I just couldn’t decide which one to go for.

We did sample the Fizzing Whizzbees, which according to the packaging, are a delicious snack and everybody’s favourite. Lies.

We caught the tube to Baker Street where we had a quick glance at the statue of Sherlock Holmes in the rain. Then onto St Johns Wood, followed by a ten minute walk to Abbey Road. Phil, in particular, wanted to see the pedestrian crossing featured on the cover of The Beatles’ Abbey Road album.

I think the shop is new, and we spent quite a while looking at the books and records and mementoes on sale here.

And again, I was not equipped to graffiti my name on the wall outside the Abbey Road Studios.

Back at Waterloo Station, we had a coffee before heading over to Covent Garden for afternoon tea. Nobody likes going to Covent Garden tube station, because of the lifts or, alternatively, having to climb nearly 200 stairs. But, because of the rain today, we decided it was worth the effort to stay dry for an extra five minutes.

Of course, we spent some time wandering around the market before meeting up with Liesel and Leslie at the chosen venue, Ladurée, a place we’ve walked by many times in the past.

It was a very relaxed afternoon tea. In fact, for a while, we thought the staff might be a bit too relaxed. Still, we got served in the end and I was fully sated, didn’t need anything for an evening meal.

I think we all agreed it had been fun showing Phil, Una and Kiran around London for a few days, but it was now sadly time to say goodbye. They were off to Barcelona for a few days, and we hope to see them again later in the year. Thank you all for being such good sports and for massively increasing my step count for a few days! Liesel, her Mom and I were staying in London for a little longer.

As it’s the start of 2025, everyone’s talking about their New Years’ Resolutions. I don’t usually make them, I try and adjust my behaviour whenever the thought occurs, throughout the year. But today, I did take
£90 and set fire to it in the hotel car park. It was so much easier to waste money and save time this way, rather than going to a gym, registering, and never going back again afterwards.

Anyway, Happy New Year, ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between.

Southbound

The final WI Committee meeting of the year took place, and according to Liesel, it didn’t turn into a drunken orgy. But whatever happened, it didn’t make the local newspaper.

On Christmas Eve, we treated the car to a wash and brush-up. I think most of the moss and the guano was washed off and the wheel hubs look much better without that layer of rust. I sometimes wonder whether the dirt is holding the vehicle together.

Later on, the family came round for our (new tradional) Christmas Eve potato and leek soup (Liesel’s version), salad and a selection of home-baked cookies: thank you Liesel. After clearing the table, we played the Dreidel Game for Hannukah. Martha and William enjoy the game, even more so when they know that regardless of the outcome, they’ll be going away with a tub of chocolate coins.

We enjoyed another wonderful Northenden sunset, not all the colours of the rainbow, but at least one of them.

Christmas Day, the most wonderful day of the year, according to at least one song. We shared in William and Martha’s excitement when we went round for brunch. Not when they first woke up, though, soon after 3.00am!

We went for a postprandial perambulation to a nearby playground, passing through the graveyard. Martha rode her bike, William scootered because one of his bicycle tyres was flat. It was a very pleasant afternoon and we burned off about 2% of the calories consumed earlier.

Did I say brunch? It was a huge meal, so much so, that we didn’t need to eat much at home for the rest of the day, just a quick snack. The Christmas Doctor Who was good. We also watched the final ever Gavin & Stacey. We saved Wallace and Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl for the next day! Hundreds of pages of listings in the Radio Times, and that’s pretty much all it came down to, for us.

On the radio, Wythenshawe FM repearted one of my Christmas shows from a couople of years ago, and on Boom Radio, we heard a 2-special celebrating Kenny Everett’s time on Radio Luxembourg and Capital Radio, on what would have been his 80th birthday. An d I am enjoying the latest, the 82nd, series of I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue on Radio 4

Sad to say we didn’t move much at all for the next couple of days. If I were into New Year’s Resolutions, mine would be to definitely go for a walk every single day. But I’m not. I resolve to do that quite frequently, throughout they year, and it never lasts long

Meanwhile, in Christchurch, New Zealand, Pauline and Andrew have signed up for this very special party in the new year.

We’d been looking forward to our end-of-year visit to London for some time. Again, we decided not to book a train, the service is so unreliable. We drove south: the traffic wasn’t too bad.

Once we hit the M6, Liesel didn’t need a lot of help with navigating, and I did my best not to fall asleep. In the back seat, Leslie was counting birds’ nests in the trees and concentrated long enough to reach 100. If she’d been counting sheep instead, she might easily have fallen asleep.

At the services, the sign told us to Drive Thru Starbucks. So we did. We drove thru Starbucks without stopping.

The biggest laugh of course came from Google Maps which warned us that there was unusually heavy traffic on M25. No, mate, that’s not unusual at all.

And of course, when you’re on the M25 and you think your car’s falling apart, it’s just the very loud and presumably very cheap concrete surface you have to drive on in some places.

Our first choice of accommodation was the Premier Inn in Tolworth. But it was fully booked. So we slummed it at Premier Inn, Chessington, next door to the World of Adventures. It was comfortable enough.

We drove into Surbiton where we met up with Helen and Steve at the old place, Allegro’s, for a pizza. After this, Liesel, Leslie and Helen caught the train into London to watch Ballet Shoes at the National Theatre. This play was enjoyed by all, although I did feel a little jealous that I’d missed out when Liesel told me Pearl Mackie was in it: she played Bill Potts in Doctor Who for a very short while.

But I was pleased to be able to enjoy a relaxing massage on this Saturday night, thank you very much. If only I could have fallen asleep straightaway afterwards, rather than having to catch a bus and walk several hundred metres along Leatherhead Road.

I was in a room by myself while Liesel shared with her Mom: this was to be the sleeping arrangement for the next few days. After a nice, but short, sleep, we got up early, packed and checked out. No time today for a delicious Premier Inn breakfast. Things to do, places to go, people to see…

All the adjectives

The musical alarm dragged me away from my exciting dream. I can’t remember what it was about, but I do feel sad to have left it behind. The reason for this inconvenience? We’d planned a quick trip to London. And I mean quick. It was a hectic 36 hours in the sense that we did a lot, but we never felt rushed. Oh, except now, getting up soon after 5am. Time enough for breakfast before the taxi took us to Manchester Coach Station. Yes, we took a leisurely five and a bit hours to reach London’s Victoria Coach Station by National Express.

The journey was uneventful on the whole: I was occupied by podcasts, a book and a nap. Two highlights though. As the coach pulled into Norton Canes Services on the M6 toll, we saw some deer and I just about caught one.

The driver didn’t bother slowing down so we could get better pictures, but I guess his bladder was on the same wavelength as mine.

The other memorable moment was as we proceeded down Park Lane in London. We heard cannon fire from Hyde Park, we guessed, to mark the first anniversary of the Queen’s death. Actually, the 41-gun salute in Hyde Park was more to mark the accession of King Charles to the British crown.

It was a beautiful, sunny day and we were travelling light, just one bag each. After sitting on the coach for so long, we had to walk for a bit. We set our controls for Trafalgar Square.

The gardeners have been busy around Victoria Monument but interestingly, very few people were outside Buckingham Palace. I thought there might be thousands of mourners marking the occasion.

The Mall was empty and I, again, reminded Liesel that I had ridden my bike here: crikey, that was 9 years ago now, that Prudential 100-mile ride around the Surrey countryside and streets of London. Just days after the devastating Hurricane Bertha.

Trafalgar Square is so much better now the pigeons have left, although a couple were still looking around hoping for some free food. Many years ago, of course, my sister and I would love feeding the birds, but it’s a much more pleasant environment now.

Round the corner then to the recently re-opened National Portrait Gallery, where we met Andi and Steve. They’re in the process of moving house in Richmond, so good luck with that!

The café was full so we went over the road. St Martin’s crypt was about to close, so we ended up having drinks behind St Martin’s, in the courtyard.

We caught up and chatted for a while and after we said our farewells, Liesel and I visited an exhibition of photographs taken by Paul McCartney during the early days of the Beatles. They’re not all of the best quality, some are out of focus, but the story they tell is fascinating.

Using QR codes and an app, you can listen to Sir Paul as he talks about some of the pictures, the people and the events.

Of all the people depicted in these photos, I’ve only met one: David Jacobs. So that’s a claim to fame. I have seen Jane Asher on stage too, in Peterborough, about 40 years ago.

Some of Paul’s notebooks are here too, including hand-written lyrics of the songs that we now all know so well.

The contrast between the early black and white pictures and the later colour ones is remarkable. I had the perfect picture in mind, but the attendant didn’t want to be included in my photo. Still, we had a nice chat about the old days in Camden and beyond.

Paul McCartney Photographs 1963-64, Eyes of the Storm is running here until 1st October, but I’m sure the collection will be shown elsewhere.

It was hard to avoid this portrait of the King before setting off on foot again. Down Whitehall, past the fortress that is now Downing Street, although there were no protestors today. Nor protestors.

As we passed Westminster Abbey, Liesel noticed how bright, how white it was. Don’t tell me it was given a good clean for the coronation?

We decided to check into our hotel and discard most of our stuff. Liesel had cleverly booked a place within easy walking distance of Victoria Coach Station, so we could make a quick getaway in the morning.

Our walk took us via Eaton Square, Sloane Square, King’s Road all the way to The Pheasantry, a Pizza Express. We were shown to our table and enjoyed our pizzas.

A long time ago, I’d booked tickets for Saturday afternoon in Manchester. Later on, Jessica Lee Morgan announced that after this year, she wouldn’t be doing any more gigs. I felt we had to see her one more time, so I bought tickets for this show. This is why our trip to London was so frenetic this time.

We met a couple of people we knew in the audience, hello again Sue, hello again, Alan!

The show was of course brilliant. ‘Those Were The Days’ it was called, in which Jessica and Christian, just the two of them this time, played songs written by or given life by female singers and songwriters.

Even though Liesel and I were sitting under the cold air ducts, the only time I really got goosebumps was when Jessica sang Ocean Song, my favourite track from her Ma’s album Earth Song, Ocean Song. Stunning.

When playing the piano, Jess apologised for turning her back to us, so I said ‘it’s nice to see yer back’.

After the interval, Jessica emerged having changed outfit, and performed Janis Joplin’s Mercedes Benz a cappella while walking amongst the audience.

After the show which we throughly enjoyed, we took a bus back to our abode and I was asleep before my head hit the pillow, as the cliché goes.

The bad news is, thet even though it was well within reach of our seats, I forgot to pick up the set list.

We got up not quite as early, walked to the coach station, and boarded with a breakfast from Prêt and enjoyed the journey back to Manchester.

We had an afternoon show to go to, and we debated whether or not we’d have time to go home first. In the end, no. We arrived in Manchester and caught a bus most of our way to the venue.

What a strange looking building! Contact is in Oxford Road, close to the University, and this was our first visit. We ordered a smoothie but, due to a shortage of ingredients, we had to resort to enjoying our beverage after the show. I wonder who got to go shopping?

Arlo Parks came to prominence just a few years ago as a young singer-songwriter. Today, whe was here to have a chat with Liv Little (I really hope her middle initial is ‘A’!) and to read from her newly published book of poetry, The Magic Border.

As is often the case, I didn’t get much of the poetry, it needs more study maybe, but I enjoyed her use of language.

Afterwards, we enjoyed our freshly made smoothies while watching the very long queue of people waiting for their books to be signed.

I met Arlo, she signed the book, and even recorded a little announcement for my radio show which was very kind. She’s a lovely, friendly little soul and I’m sure she’ll be a big star soon. And not just because she’s gonna be a regular on my show…

So, that was a hectic fun-packed 36 hours, and in the evening, we slumped in front of the penultimate state of the Tour of Britain bike race.

What’s better than two show in two days? Well, three shows in three days, of course.

Laughterama is Manchester’s biggest comedy festival. It might be the only one, I suppose, but that’s what their website says. I bought the tickets ages ago, and it was just rotten luck that all these things came up this weekend.

We drove into Manchester and parked about a five minute walk from the venue, Castlefield Bowl. We’ve been close to this site on many occasions, but didn’t realise there was this amphitheatre. The weather forecasts conflicted, and it did rain a few times, just light drizzle really, nothing too bad. But that didn’t dampen our mood. Especially after filling up with nachos. Other street food was available.

The show was hosted by Suzi Ruffell and she, and the other four were absolutely brilliant, very funny.

Ardal O’Hanlon reminded us that he used to be Father Dougal and he went to great lengths to demonstrate that he, Ardal, was not as stupid as Dougal. He, Sukisa, Dana and Suzi walked up and down the stage a bit, but they did stand still sometimes, hence the reasonable photos. Russell Kane on the other hand, well, he ran up and down the stage, he performed all his own stunts, all while talking and telling jokes and interrupting himself and making valid points about today’s society. That’s my excuse for not achieving such a clear, focussed photo of him. This is the least worst, and possibly, the most interesting.

I don’t know how much energy he used, but they should wire him up to the national grid. Very funny. In fact, we’d recommend you see any of these folks live on stage if you get the chance.

The only thing we didn’t like was the seating. The stackable chairs were too small and way too close to each other. You didn’t have to be overweight to be squished between your neighbours, and in our case, one of those neighbours was a complete stranger.

Later on, whilst wasting time browsing Instagram, I came across this image.

So, that was another fun day, and in the evening, we slumped in front of the final stage of the Tour of Britain bike race. The winner was Wout van Aert, one of the favourites, and that last day, in the mountains of south Wales looked really hard.

That concludes our exciting, hectic, frenetic and frenzied but incredibly exciting and fun weekend. All the adjectives.

So listen out for Arlo’s small message on my show later this week (the theme is Secrets, so tell everyone), link to follow. And, if you missed them, here are links to the shows where Jessica Lee Morgan and Dan Tiernan joined me in the studio. In the studio! I was in the spare room, and we spoke remotely!

The Other Side

We booked tickets for a show in London quite a while ago. Since then, we’ve been planning a whole weekend. For various reasons, we decided not to go by train nor to drive. Instead, we travelled by National Express coach. This was a first for Liesel, and I’ve not used their services since well before Liesel came on the scene. We took a bus into Manchester and found the coach station easily enough.

This shows how long it is since I’ve travelled by coach. In the coach station, I was expecting to be engulfed in a miasma of cigarette smoke and diesel fumes from coaches with the engines left running unnecessarily. But no, it was quite a pleasant atmosphere.

The coach stopped a couple of times on the way to London, but we still arrived at Victoria Coach Station 20 minutes early. A real bonus after being on board for over five hours.

From Victoria to Putney was quite easy and we checked into our accommodation.

The gig was at The Half Moon, Putney, and I knew exactly where it was. Just a short walk from our hotel, over Putney Bridge and along the road.

On the way, we bumped into Helen and Steve. What are the chances? A little further along the road and there it was. The Half Moon. On the wrong side of the street. Yep, I knew exactly where it was, so why it’s crossed the road, I don’t know.

We dined here before the show. And I met Alan in real life, someone I was friends with online until I left Facebook.

When we took our place at the table right in front of the stage, I also saw Sue, although we have met before.

So what was the show? ‘Those Were The Days’ as performed by Jessica Lee Morgan with Chris on bass and Paul Cuddeford on guitar.

Jessica covered songs written by or made famous by female musicians from 1968 to 1976. Two hours of brilliant songs, beautifully performed. Yes, of course I sang along but I wasn’t pelted with too many rotten tomatoes.

We enjoyed the late night walk back over he bridge and had a purple night’s sleep, as advertised.

Meeting someone at Liverpool Street Station is hard, we just don’t know it well enough, and certainly not the meeting points. So we agreed to meet Elakshi at a Starbucks. While waiting, we went next door to Pickwick’s for a nicer coffee.

Our friend Monica in Anchorage has a niece who’s studying here in the UK for a few months. We showed Elakshi round some of the more quirky sites in the city of London, including the Sculpture in the City trail.

Cosmos, 2018 is composed of three 3.5 metre-high slatted structures which lean into and support each other, painted black on the exterior and sprayed in a coloured gradient within. An imposing physical structure, the work encourages both a physical and aesthetic response. Says Rothschild: “The external piece is quite forbidding. Its black shiny surface is like a set of disruptive gates.”

This was number 8 on the trail, but we managed to miss a few. All were interesting in their own way, even if it was easy to walk by and miss some without realising.

Leadenhall Market was looking quite tentacular today, and not just because of the stars painted on the ceiling.

Our walk took us to Spitalfields Market where I just about resisted the temptation to look at the vinyl records on sale. We had lunch here in the crowded market before Elakshi had to head off for some proper study.

Liesel and I then made our way to Covent Garden, yes, another market, where we planned to buy absolutely nothing. Except Liesel was thinking of a particular clothes shop she wanted to visit. In one of the art shops, there was a portrait of David Bowie. One that moved as you walk by. Spooky.

On to Leicester Square and beyond to Trafalgar Square where I was pleased to see a new item on the 4th plinth.

Antelope by Samson Kambalu b. 1975, Malawi

Antelope restages a photograph of Baptist preacher and pan-Africanist John Chilembwe and European missionary John Chorley as a sculpture.

The photograph was taken in 1914 at the opening of Chilembwe’s new church in Nyasaland, now Malawi. Chilembwe has his hat on, defying the colonial rule that forbade Africans from wearing hats in front of white people. A year later, he led an uprising against colonial rule. Chilembwe was killed and his church was destroyed by the colonial police.

On the plinth, Chilembwe is larger than life, while Chorley is life-size. By increasing his scale, the artist elevates Chilembwe and his story, revealing the hidden narratives of underrepresented peoples in the history of the British Empire in Africa, and beyond.

At this point, we still hadn’t decided what to do in the evening. A film? A play? A musical? Another gig? In the end, we thought a comedy show would go down well and we spent a funny couple of hours in the company of Maisie Adam at Leicester Square Theatre.

The show finished early-ish so we decided to wander over to the South Bank for something to eat. You can’t go wrong at Wagamama. Oh yes you can. I chose a dish that I’ve had many times before but boy was it hot. Hot in the sense that it really stung my windburnt lips. And hot as in much more spicy than is usually the case. Phew. Once the steam stopped puffing out of my ears, I cooled my head down with a nice bowl of coconut ice cream. Phew indeed!

We went our separate ways on the Saturday. Liesel went south to spend the day with Rosie, walking from Surbiton via Kingston to Hampton Court along the towpath and having some giggly girly time together. Was I at all jealous? Well no, not at all, because I’d decided to pay a long overdue visit to the National Maritime Museam at Greenwich and then up the hill to the Observatory.

But as soon as I went outside, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. It was lovely and warm, verging on the muggy even, and the thought of sitting on buses and/or tube trains for hours to travel to Greenwich just wasn’t as attractive. Instead, I thought I’d walk part of the way and then maybe complete the journey on public transport. I headed in the direction of King’s Road and took in the sights and brought back some memories.

I passed by Parson’s Green, close to where I used to work in the mid-1980s. It hasn’t changed much. But another little patch of green is encouraging insects.

It’s always good to see birds of prey, especially in the middle of a large city.

Church’s of Cheaney Famous English Shoes

I do feel sorry for this one though, tethered as it is to the roof of a glorified shoe shop.

Not all quirky sculptures are in the City of London.

It’s been nearly five decades since I downed a pint of beer in The World’s End pub. I decided not to revisit today, even though a small part of me wondered whether I’d bump into my old work colleague and drinking buddy Clive. But suppose I owed him money?

The World’s End second-hand book shop on King’s Road hasn’t changed much either. If anything, it’s even more crammed with stock so that potential customers have to move around one at a time, like chess pieces on a very crowded board. I wasn’t surprised that they didn’t have a copy of a book that I’ve been looking for for many years: The Nabob’s Garden by Frederica Bennett. I read it several times as a child but can remember nothing about it other than it had a green cover and no dust jacket.

I knew I was taking too much time ambling along King’s Road but I knew something was really wrong with the spacetime continuum when I looked at the clock over the road. The hands were spinning round very fast.

This place looked very different in the olden days…

Dave the artist still exhibits his own paintings on King’s Road in the Open Air Gallery. He’s very friendly, go and have a chat if you’re passing by.

I wandered by the old Chelsea Hospital and onto a street market, close to the Saatchi Gallery, where I had some lunch.

I thought I’d make use of the facilities at Peter Jones. But no. The Gents toilet was out of order and the nearest one was the accessible toilets. Downstairs.

I hope there’s another route to the accessible toilets, I wouldn’t want to bump down those stairs in my wheelchair.

And so to Sloane Square, where, a few days after she died, I saw the Princess of Wales standing outside the underground station. No dead people today, but a throbbing mass of living ones.

Do I get a train towards Greenwich? No. I decided to continue walking until I stopped. Through Eaton Square and onto the side entrances to Buckingham Palace. I know King Charles isn’t planning to live here for at least a few years, so it was good to see that services to the palace were being discommected.

Millions of people were loitering by the front gates of the palace on this cloudy afternoon but I was surprised by the brightness of the Victoria Monument’s golden angel.

Time for some birdwatching in St James’s Park. Don’t feed or touch the pelicans, says the sign. Well, I didn’t even see any, just Egyptians, pigeons, ducks, geese, swans (black and white) and squirrels. And more pigeons. With whom I did not share by cinnamon doughnut and coffee.

After leaving the park, I realised I ought to head back. I took a bus back to Putney, changed my clothes, then took another bus into Kingston.

Did I regret not making it to Greenwich? No, I had a fantastic walk and Greenwich and the museum will still be there next time. I also didn’t see much of the South Bank on this occasion, just Wagamama. Apart from a slight sense of disloyalty, I didn’t mind walking on the other side of the river this time.

I perambulated through Kingston, mostly familiar, but there have been some changes here, towards the river. The plan was to meet up with Liesel and Liesel’s cousin. Yes, her cousin Andi with her husband of just a few months Steve have moved to the UK, specifically to Richmond upon Thames.

I first met Andi and Steve on holiday in Hawaii ten or so years ago, when Helen and Adam and Jenny came too, not to mention Liesel’s extended family. We’ve also been with them to a few Dave Matthews concerts.

The waiters in the restaurant must have been rolling their eyes when after several attempts at taking our order, we still hadn’t stopped talking long enough to look at the menu.

In the end, we had a very pleasant and enjoyable meal, at Comptoir Libanais since you ask, after which they invited us back to their pad, a quick 65 bus ride away. I’m old enough to remember when the 65 went all the way to Chessington.

Their house is located in a very desirable location, close to the river, close to shops, close to the railway station. The pomegranate tree, as far as we know, is the only one in Richmond and it needs a bit of a trim, to be honest. Liesel and I left quite late but it was easy enough to get back to Putney, via Earls Court on the District Line.

And so our short stay in London comes to an end. At Victoria, we visited The Shakespeare for a late breakfast. Do you have a menu, I asked? We’ll bring a menu over when we’re open for food at twelve o’clock. I felt suitably chastised. No nut roast today so we settled for very disappointing nachos. I couldn’t drink too much beer knowing we’d be on the coach for five hours. Another long journey that passed quickly thanks to some podcasts and a book and some puzzles.

Somehow, the 43 bus from Manchester back to Northenden seemed really slow, stopping every thirty seconds…

Back to normal then? Well, nearly. I have picked up the cold that Liesel’s had for a few days. I hope I didn’t pass it on to Martha and William when we met up at Quarry Bank Mill.

In between climbing trees, and playing in the playground and walking and running through the woods and climbing muddy slopes, we didn’t do much here today.

During the week, we went for our usual walks, noticing it become cooler as time went on. We walked to Didsbury and noticed that at last, after far too long, we are now able to walk on the other side of the Mersey between Palatine Road and Northenden Bridge. That path has been off limits while they jack up the motorway, or something.

The radio show this week was based on Jessica’s show, Those Were The Days. I’d picked up the set list, asked all three musicians to sign it for me, and I used it for my own show. I played (mostly) the original versions of the songs plus a couple of extras.

And if you’re interested, here is the playlist from the gig:

Turn Turn Turn
At Seventeen
Big Yellow Taxi
New York
Both Sides Now
Who Knows Where the Time Goes
Natural Woman
Songbird
Make Hay
It’s Too Late
Killing me Softly with his Song
You’re so Vain

Mercedez Benz
Me and Bobby McGee
The Man Who Sold the World
Ocean Song
You’ve Got a Friend
The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face
Hope Is
River
Texas Angel
Brand New Key
Jolene
Those Were The Days
This Wheel’s On Fire
Goodbye

I think my cold is receding, I feel less tired, less cold, less lethargic than I did yesterday, at least I was able to concentrate on this stuff for a while. The Covid tests have all come up negative.

And here we are: November already. Who knows where the time goes?

Goodbye.

A Tale of, like, Two Cities (Part 2)

The story so far: we’re in London, now temporarily residing in a flat close to the South Bank.

We agreed it was probably too far to walk to Paddington Station this early in the morning, so instead we enjoyed a bus ride. Two buses in fact, changing in Oxford Street. Yes, Oxford Street, famous for Selfridges, John Lewis and the now ubiquitous Candy Stores.

Sarah wasn’t due to arrive from Exeter until about 10:30 so we passed the remaining few minutes at a coffee bar. Of course we did. In the station, I found the statue of Paddington Bear, from whom the railway terminus takes its name.

Liesel wanted to visit another clothes shop, but before setting off in the direction of St Christopher’s Place, Sarah forced us to sit down for another coffee. We hadn’t seen her since our visit to Exeter before Christmas, and to be honest, she hasn’t changed much.

It was a nice day for another long walk along the streets of London, but the sunny side was so much warmer than the other, shady, side of the street. And of course, it’s always good to explore places new to us.

I thought this dress would look good on Liesel, but no, we didn’t even go into this shop. It’s in an area called Hyde Park Estate, which I’d not heard of before, and, as I confirmed when I looked at the map, it’s not even that close to Hyde Park. Probably an invention from the tortured mind of an estate agent.

As the plaque says:

St Christopher’s Close

“From a forgotten backwater to one of London’s loveliest shopping streets” 18th Century- Originally known as Barretts Court after the local owner John Barrett In the 18th Century and early 19th Century the area became a slum, situated off Tyburn Street, now Oxford Street, which lead directly to the Tyburn Gallows at Marble Arch. The last public hanging took place in 1783.

19th Century – Redeveloped in the 1870’s for social housing under the patronage of Octavia Hill, joint founder of the National Trust, the street also included a variety of historic trades – lampmaking, chandlers, cheese-mongers, drapers and bookmakers. The Lamb and Flag public house became a favourite haunt for anarchists.

20th Century – While adjoining Oxford Street became the busiest shopping street in Britain, St Christopher’s Place declined and by 1987 there were many empty properties. A major modern office redevelopment was proposed with the buildings being demolished.

It was then that Robin Spiro, a somewhat unconventional property developer, appeared on the scene believing, against the prevailing trend, that demolition was not the answer and that a period, small scale, shopping thoroughfare could successfully preserve something of the past in today’s busy world. And so St Christopher’s Place was transformed into one of London’s loveliest shopping streets.

It really is very cute. And surprisingly quiet given its proximity to Oxford Street.

We thought The Hour was a whole shop. But it turned out to be just one rack of clothes in a larger shop. I left the women there to do their thing while I went for another solo wander. From Oxford Street, it would be so easy to miss the turning into St Christopher’s Place, it’s a very narrow entrance. And certainly, over the decades, I have always missed it.

I wanted to pay a quick visit, a pilgrimage even, to Hyde Park, where I spent many happy hours and days when I lived, studied and worked in London. The window displays in Sefridges are as good and creative as ever. The current theme is SuperFutures, Tomorrow in the Making.

Future generations came up with the ideas and concepts. What if we could control the weather? Well, I’d probably whinge about it a lot less, that’s for sure!

I wasn’t sorry to miss seeing the Marble Arch Mound, an unattractive £2,000,000 pile of mud, but I was sorry to see the state of the site now. I hope they’ll tidy the area up soon. Marble Arch, the place where I bought my first typewriter, where I spent too much time browsing in the Record and Tape Exchange and where we saw many movies in the late 1970s.

Over the road into Hyde Park, and specifically, Speakers’ Corner.

The Hecklers are as important as the Speakers on a Sunday or whenever there’s a ‘debate’. My main contribution, once, was to half-heartedly wave a fist at someone but I can’t remember what annoyed me so much. That was a long time ago.

I didn’t make use of the service, but I was happy to see the deck chairs out for hire on such a sunny day. This was close to the area where Liesel and I have enjoyed so much music over the years. The first concert we saw here together was Simon and Garfunkel supported by The Everly Brothers.

The lawn is being watered but so are some of the paths.

Liesel said she’d text me when she’d finished shopping. But after about three quarters of an hour, I thought I’d better make my way back anyway. I was excited to see a poster advertising Doctor Who: Time Fracture.

Doctor Who: Time Fracture, a ground-breaking immersive theatrical adventure, plunges you into the incredible universe of Doctor Who.

The Doctor needs you! The Universe as we know it is at stake – now is the time to step up and be the hero. For decades, in a quiet corner of Mayfair, London, a dangerous rift in time and space has been monitored by a group of loyal members of the long-thought-disbanded Unified Intelligence Taskforce – or UNIT for short. Until now they have managed to protect the people of Earth from the threat the rift poses but, weakened and beaten back as the Time Fracture grows out of control, they’re now close to defeat.

With 43 live actors and 17 different worlds to explore, take an epic journey across space and time, travel to exciting new (and old) places, confront menacing monsters and encounter ancient aliens – all while you battle to save all of existence!

Really exciting, right? So exciting, that I totally forgot about it until long after we’d returned home. And, it was fully sold out anyway.

Oh, here’s a surprise:

After meeting up with Liesel and Sarah, following a very successful shopping expedition, we gave consideration to lunch. We walked along Oxford Street towards a place that we know and love but instead, we ended up at Willows, on the roof of John Lewis.

We enjoyed a very nice, civilised meal in the sunshine, before, oh no, more shopping in John Lewis itself. I browsed the TV department and had a quick look at printers while Liesel and Sarah looked at shoes and handbags and other fascinating wares.

I can only look at TVs and printers for a finite amount of time before becoming overwhelmed. Technology is all so complicated these days. So I went out the back door of the shop intending to wait for the ladies in Cavendish Square. But I wasn’t allowed in, they’re setting up a funfair or something.

This lilac tree certainly stands out amongst all the London plane trees.

Time for another pilgrimage? Of course. We continued our walk along Oxford Street to Soho Square where we sat on Kirsty’s bench for a while after booting out the previous occupants. Yes, we should have brought flowers in memory of the late, great Kirsty MacColl, but we did play her song Soho Square and (quietly) sang along.

We said our goodbyes and left on buses travelling in opposite directions. Liesel and I dined at a restaurant near our accommodation, but what with the slow, uncoordinated and unprofessional service, not to mention the unwelcome visitors, we won’t be going back there again.

Our final night in London was uneventful. It didn’t take long to pack in the morning and to walk to Waterloo Station where I was delighted to look at a photographic exhibition. Another reminder that I really should take my real camera out sometime instead of solely relying on the phone camera.

I think I remember when comet Neowise was around, and that whenever I looked for it, I just saw clouds. I would be very proud to have taken a picture like this. Congratulations to Historic Britain Runner Up James Rushforth.

Comet Neowise over Stonehenge
Comet NEOWISE passes over Stonehenge in the United Kingdom. It’s fascinating to think that this historic site did not exist when NEOWISE last passed the Earth. The comet is due to return in approximately 6,800 years, I wonder if the stones will still be standing? This is a single-exposure photograph taken early on the morning of July 2020. The orange glow is light pollution from the nearby villages of Durrington and Larkhill, and a passing lorry very kindly painted the rocks with light.

We caught a train to Chessington, a very familiar route of course, we lived there for so long. Walking past our old house felt very strange. It’s not our house any more of course, but after living there for 33 years, I can’t help be a little bit nostalgic. It’s none of my business, I know, but the carbuncle of a loft extension is just wrong.

Interesting to see that they haven’t replaced the windows that Liesel and I installed over ten years ago. And I was pleased to see that the tree planted in the street outside our house about 30 years ago is still thriving. As is our old lavender bush in the front garden, which will very soon take over the whole neighbourhood.

Round the corner and what a joy to see Dawn again after all this time. She had two years of massages to catch up on. That and a pedicure set me up for the day. She’s now working in a purpose built shed in her garden, although I’m sure there must be a better term than ‘shed’. I was treated first while Liesel went inside the house to work online for a couple of hours. And of course I went for a wander while Liesel herself was being pampered.

I bumped into my old postie mate Michael who seemed as surprised to see me as I was him. Duncan, our manager, has now retired. But I get the impression the job itself hasn’t improved. They’re discouraged from taking time off just because they have Covid.

What else is new in Chessington? Any yarn-bombing? Why, yes, actually.

The tile shop Versatile has moved down a couple of units. One of the many, many barbers in Chessington has moved from the station forecourt to North Parade. The party shop is now a, groan, mobile and vape store. Another hairdresser has become a tanning lounge. Good to see Jenny’s Café is still there though.

We caught a bus to our final accommodation on this occasion, the exciting Premier Inn at Tolworth. After dumping the bulk of our luggage, we ventured into Kingston.

This site has been under discussion for, what, 25 years? There were many inappropriate plans for over-development submitted over the years, so it’s good to see that, at last, the old and long derelict government land being developed. We need more housing. Signal Park has a selection of 1-, 2- and 3-bedroom apartments for sale or part-ownership.

Behind Tolworth Station, at the edge of the building site, look at the Crop-Ups, small planters for local people on the waiting list for allotments, growing all kinds of (to me) unidentifiable produce!

We realised the error of our ways as the K2 took us the long way round Berrylands and Subiton, before arriving in Kingston. We could have walked to the next bus stop for a bus that would go directly into Kingston. Where, bizarrely, we realised how much colder it was. The swans and flamingoes on the Thames here are huge, there must be something in the water.

We had dinner at Comptoir Libanais, one of our favourite Kingston restaurants. I say dinner, but really, it was mid-afternoon, and there were very few other customers inside. The food was, as always, delicious.

We wandered aimlessly around the town for a short while and I’m not sure this Futon shop was here before. As I said to Liesel though, it’s nice to have a spring sale, but shouldn’t they have a sale on the rest of the furniture too?

An early, relaxing evening reading and doing puzzles and listening to the radio and podcasts was followed by a good night’s sleep, thanks for asking.

We ventured, by bus, into Surbiton where we had a late breakfast at another favourite venue, Allegro’s. We had the place to ourselves. After the full vegetarian breakfasts, and filling our flasks with coffee from The Press Room, just round the corner, it was time to set off home.

Two trains, then, and two buses today. As the train passed by Vauxhall, I had to check that The British Interplanetary Society was still there and thriving. From Waterloo, we caught a bus to Euston, but decided to get off at Russell Square and sit for a while.

This young lady was having a very long telephone conversation with someone, husband or partner probably, but I suspect not a work colleague.

From Russell Square, we walked along the road to Tavistock Square. I think I already knew, but it was still strange seeing the juxtaposition between a statue of Gandhi, the man of peace and a memorial to the victims of the Hiroshima bombing.

There was music in the air too, which we finally tracked down to the sax player having a jolly good time.

And so, our short break comes to an end. Walk to Euston, train to Manchester, bus to Northenden, back to normal.

To be continued…

What? Really? Oh yes. Two cities, remember?

A Tale of, like, Two Cities (Part 1)

It was like, the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of, like wisdom, I suppose, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, y’know? It was the season of, like, Light, it was the season of Darkness, man. I can’t even. I mean, it was the spring of hope, it was, like, the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had like nothing before us, we were all literally going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way — in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its, y’know, noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, like, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. Know what I mean?

Can you imagine reading a whole novel written by a Generation Z Charles Dickens? Well, if the two young ladies chatting away on the bus nineteen to the dozen, talking about their upcoming exams and so much more, have anything to do with it, this will become the new normal! Actually, it was a very entertaining discussion, even if we oldies couldn’t keep up with every single cultural reference. After alighting from the bus, we trudged to Manchester’s Piccadilly Railway station where we officially began our few days away, down south, in London. It was our first visit by train since well before the first lockdown, and since Virgin lost the franchise to Avanti West Coast.

My first panic attack occurred as we waited outside the station. I wanted to take a photo of something, but the message flashed up on the phone: Camera Failed. Oh no. Why? No idea. Turning the camera off and leaving it for a few minutes before turning it back on fixed the problem. By which time, I’d lost interest in whatever I was eyeing up for a picture.

Fortunately, we’d booked seats, but the train was crowded because an earlier one had been cancelled. Why? Because a plastic bag had lodged itself in the overhead cables and needed to be removed. I visualised a man up a ladder with a long stick, insulated against the 20,000 volts or whatever.

So, other than our train being oversubscribed, the journey was uneventful. Sadly, we mask-wearers were in the minority. We caught a bus to Waterloo Bridge and descended to the South Bank, where our first lunch or brunch was a small donkey. Well, a burrito. We had a little visitor, which we think is a one-legged, adolescent pied wagtail.

Our first accommodation was at a Premier Inn and of course we went to the wrong one first. But, it didn’t matter, I enjoyed seeing some paintings by Salvador Dalí.

We dropped off our bags at the correct place and then set off for a longer walk back along the South Bank. The sites are interesting but then, so are all the people. We resisted the temptation of walking on the beach, but there were quite a few people down there. Sad to see Pieminister has gone from Gabriel’s Wharf, but we didn’t help their business by not visiting for years and years.

We enjoyed some Afro Cuban music thanks to these buskers near Blackfriars Bridge. Neither of us had any cash on us, so thank goodness these, and most other, street entertainers now have the means to accept donations electronically.

We continued along the South Bank, via Hay’s Gallery, the Golden Hinde, Tate Modern, though not necessarily in that order. The newly-wed couple near Tower Bridge seem very happy.

After crossing Tower Bridge, when again I was disappointed that it didn’t lift while I was on it, we walked by The Tower, thinking about the poor people who were taken in through Traitor’s Gate over hundreds of years. You can easily guess which treacherous group of people we would like to see taken in and be severely dealt with right now.

And you know how they used to keep wild animals such as lions in a menagerie at the Tower? Well, they still do!

As we walked by, we noticed a strange vessel docked next to HMS Belfast in the Thames. From the northern bank, we could see it was in fact Le Champlain, a relatively small cruise ship. Will we ever go on a cruise? Never say never, but I think we’re more likely to join a small ship such as this rather than the small cities that cruise around the oceans.

We walked back over Waterloo Bridge and found these legs out on display.

I felt a bit miffed that my own lallies, on display for everyone’s pleasure, had some competition. I couldn’t find a plaque explaining this unusual work of art, and I certainly don’t know where the top half is.

As the Sun went down, we ate our evening meal then walked back to the correct Premier Inn where we had a really good night’s sleep. Quite right too, after such a long walk.

In other news, we noticed the numbers on the clock faces of Big Ben, The Queen Elizabeth Tower, have been painted blue. That scaffolding was up for a long time for a spot of paintwork, so we can only assume more extensive refurbishment has gone on behind the scenes.

In the morning, we walked along the road a bit and sat outside for breakfast, almost in the shadow of the London Eye. No, we weren’t tempted on this occasion, although the lack of a long queue was quite unusual.

We didn’t expect to see red squirrels in London, in Jubilee Gardens, and we certainly didn’t anticipate seeing a blue one.

Again, the opportunity is there for a quick, electronic donation, no need to dig around in pockets seeking old coins and buttons to throw in a hat.

We witnessed this young man practicing his parcours skills.

I was going to have a go myself but, er, oh yeah, Liesel said not to, well, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it. We found our home for the next two nights, an Airbnb just a couple of minutes from the South Bank, behind the National Theatre in fact. We have a flat to ourselves, and given the location, we’ve decided to move in permanently.

Another day, another long walk. This time, we crossed Waterloo Bridge again and headed towards Covent Garden. The usual market stalls weren’t there, it was more of an Antiques Fair. All sorts of old jewellery, crockery and even old photos of perfectly ordinary people. I didn’t recognise anyone, of course, but what a shame, there are probably families somewhere who would love to have those pictures back.

Street market flower sellers from the 1970s

Liesel wanted to visit a clothes shop, Gudrun Sjödén, in Monmouth Street, near Seven Dials. I thought she’d be inside for about 10-15 minutes. Oh no. She didn’t appear again for well over an hour, having received such good and personal service inside. Go on then, Liesel, give us a twirl, show us what you bought.

I wandered around in ever increasing circles, finding lots of interesting places. I’m not really related, but it’s always good to check up on the dance shoe shop bearing my name.

A lot of London is undergoing building work at the moment, so it doesn’t all look its best. Someone who’ll never be forgotten though is David Bowie. He appeared in one form or another in at least four different shop windows over a couple of days.

The other thing that there’s a proliferation of in London (and elsewhere) is Candy Stores. Not good, old-fashioned, English sweet shops, but American-style Candy Stores selling all kinds of American sweets, Hersheys, cereals and probably chemiucals that aren’t legal in the UK. I’m so glad that Liesel isn’t interested in giving her custom to any of these places. But there are so many. Nearly as many vape shops too. Gone are the days when empty premises are taken over by betting shops or charity shops.

This pillar has seven sundials at the top, which is an amazing coincidence given that it’s located at Seven Dials.

Just off Monmouth Road, there’s a small courtyard, Ching Court, which I had no reason to visit. But I did, and came across this wonderful expanse of colour which the people who are lucky enough to live here gaze upon every day.

We’re in London so of course we thought about taking in a stage show or a concert. But we didn’t, partly due to concern about Covid still, and partly through not quite getting around to booking tickets. One of the strangest and most unexpected shows on offer was this one:

London’s most wanted musical. Spoiler alert: does it end in a hail of 88 bullets?

Nor did we engage in spectating at any sports events, except this one.

These horses weren’t running very fast, and when they pulled up at traffic lights, the race was declared a dead heat.

I visited Forbidden Planet, the old science fiction and fantasy bookshop, but nowadays it’s more about collectables from the various franchises, Star Wars, Doctor Who, Star Trek, Marvel comics and more. Interestingly, one of the outlets in Seven Dials Market, where Liesel and I had a late lunch, has borrowed the name.

Liesel’s been looking for books by a particular author for a while. Let’s walk up and down Charing Cross Road, we decided, it’s all second-hand book shops. Well, not any more it isn’t. Candy stores and vape shops are common amongst other new emporia. Foyles is still there of course and just a couple of the old bookshops. But none had what we were looking for.

We wandered through Chinatown where they haven’t taken down the new year’s lanterns since February, so it still looks bright and vibrant.

It began to rain, so we ducked into the nearest available shop. It was the M&M shop in Leicester Square. We bought something for the grandchildren but, most importantly, we stayed dry.

Tonight saw the premier of the new film Downton Abbey: A New Era. Well, our invites must have got lost in the post but that’s just as well. Sorry to say, but the red carpet was being put in place, and, between you and me, it’s a bit tatty, held together with duct tape. I hope it didn’t become too squelchy in the rain.

Next stop for a coffee was the crypt at St Martin’s in the Field.

Again, my wife curtailed my creative urges. Plus, I didn’t have on me the necessary marker pen. But I wanted to change the name of the bishop on this sign from Wah to Pigeon.

And speaking of pigeons, Trafalgar Square is so much better without them. I know in the olden days, my sister especially took great pleasure in feeding them but times change.

Earlier, I mentioned Big Ben and didn’t provide a photograph. Well, here is one.

This chocolate model is in a shop window, with a sign telling us not to touch it. Well, we didn’t touch it, but while Liesel distracted the shop staff, I had a jolly good lick.

Oh yes, another new fashion in London seems to be leaving old pianos outside shops, whether suitably decorated or otherwise.

The end of the day saw us returning to out Airbnb flat for a good night’s sleep. Well, eventually. The children upstairs must have been jumping off the top of the wardrobe or something, and we half expected them to come through the ceiling to visit us. Once they went to bed though, it was nice and peaceful. Even the traffic outside wasn’t too bad, apart from a couple of motorbikes.

I’m so glad I recorded this week’s radio show last week, there’s no way I would have found time to do it here in London. It was on Wythenshawe FM 97.2 on Friday afternoon at 2, as usual, but feel free to catch it here.

And don’t panic, there is still plenty more to come from our few days in London. Friends! Shops! Nostalgia!

On Tuesday morning at 1.37, our ghosts were haunting the pharmacies of Northenden. A payment to the value of a prescription was taken from one of our cards. Fraud? Looks like it. Was the pharmacy bovvered when we reported the incident on our return? Not really. The solution was to take £9.35 in cash out of the till and give it to us. No paperwork involved. We’re grateful that we’re not out of pocket of course, but come on, that’s not how you address issues of apparently fraudulent activity. In an unusual move on my part, I tweeted a (rare for me) negative tweet about this situation. What happened next?

Cookie monsters

We ventured as far as Dunham Massey for a lovely walk in the sunshine. So did a lot of other people. The queue of cars waiting at the entrance split into two, National Trust members keeping to the right. And yes, we VIPs felt very special as we overtook several ordinary people waiting to buy their tickets.

Some of the stags were bellowing, it must be that time of year again. Bellowing? To be honest, some of them sounded more like pigs squealing in pain. But maybe that’s an attractive noise to some of the less discerning females.

Liesel knows this as a straw flower, and it does indeed feel like it’s made from paper. We know it as salmon rose or Helichrysum brachteatum of course.

We had a few goes at this picture, trying to get the gorgeous burgundy red foliage in the background, but it still looks like my head is twice as big as Liesel’s.

In the evening we went out to a live concert. We hadn’t planned to, it was a spontaneous decision, something we should do more often maybe. Part of Manchester Folk Festival, we enjoyed the music of O’Hooley and Tidow supported by John Kelly and Lunatraktors. (*) We were back at Home, a venue which we quite like. O’Hooley and Tidow sing wonderful songs but the banter in between is just as much fun.

O’Hooley and Tidow, Lunatraktors, John Kelly

Still being cautious, we kept our masks on during the show and I think we will be doing so for a long time to come.

Our default walk along the river was exciting. We saw not one, but two herons, in different places. Well, it might have been the same one playing tricks on us, I suppose, but it’s nice to see they’ve (or it’s) come back.

We’ve been inundated with ladybirds during the last couple of weeks. They try to come into our living room and, sometimes, they succeed.

This little chap enjoyed walking around the snow-capped mountainscape that is my sock before being released and allowed to fly away home.

It was half-term this week and we were pleased to be able to look after Martha and William for a few hours. They helped decorate the halloween cookies carefully baked by Oma and they did quite a good job, despite ODing on the decorating icing and food colouring. Some of the results might not be biologically accurate.

Six-eyed bat, anyone?

I took William to the playground where we played and waited for Oma to bring Martha. They’re taking a long time, I thought, maybe they’ve got lost. I even wondered whether they’d gone to a different playground. But when they arrived, it turns out they’d been picking litter, as suggested by Martha. And luckily, we have the equipment.

William had problems with the litter-picker-uppers, the grips was a little too hard to squeeze. So he handed the stick back and and lifted his hands to his face, in the manner of binoculars. “What are you doing, William?” “I’m litter-spotting.” Well, it’s a very important job.

We picked litter as we walked home and two strangers expressed their gratitude to Martha and William for doing a good job. Strangers? Well, one was our local councillor, Mary, and she was with the manager of the local retirement housing facility, Boat Lane Court.

It won’t become a habit, but for lunch, we got chips from the local chippy. Jenny came to take the children to another play venue, and I was sure the amount of sugar consumed earlier in the day would keep their energy levels up.

Northenden Arts Festival is here. On the first afternoon, we saw Ali Davenport (*) read some of her own poems, mostly written during the lockdown. Members of the audience were invited to read their own poems and short stories too, and it was a very entertaining hour.

The second event we went to later in the evening was Plane Comedy. MC Colin Manford did a good job and he introduced two other comedians for our enjoyment, Dan Tiernan (*) and Mick Ferry. The show was sold out and the theatre felt crammed, but we kept our masks on and ourselves to ourselves. But we had a jolly good laugh at the comedy.

Yes, I managed half decent pictures of the men in the evening, but nobody needs to see my photo of the back of Ali’s head, no matter how artistic it is.

The Festival carries on all weekend and we have tickets for three more shows. So, five shows over four days.

Because we were looking after the children, we missed the weekly walk in Northenden on Wednesday. Sadly, Liesel missed the one in Wythenshawe, also led by Chantel (*), on Friday because she was at home, working. I joined it after taking the bus most of the way. I’d like to walk there and back, of course, but that means dragging myself out of bed a bit earlier.

The weather was ideal for observing rainbows, and here’s one as seen from our luxury apartment

What’s at the end of this rainbow? A stunning block of flats.

The radio show this week was all about Insults and Name-Calling. You can catch up here, maybe have it on in the background to ignore while you’re doing something useful.

(*) What’s that parenthesised asterisk malarkey all about then? This week, I introduced an occasional new feature into the show: Who did we see in concert this week? I play a track by each artist. Also, on previous shows, I have spoken to Ali, Dan and Chantel, so it’s good to see them in the flesh. I spoke with Ali briefly, but we were herded out of the theatre before I had a chance to speak to Dan, a former fellow Radio Northenden presenter.

I try to keep up to date with this blog but sometimes I forget to mention odd things. This is as good an opportunity as any to bring some very late news.

For a few weeks now, we’ve been using a new gadget in the kitchen. It’s an Instant Pot, an electric pressure cooker that has taken the USA by storm, according to the blurb. We use the inefficient electric oven far less often, and the meals are, so far, always delicious. It can perform several functions when in the more-than-capable hands of a fantastic cook such as Liesel.

When we were in Borough Market a few weeks ago, I think I forgot to mention that Liesel bought some Bienstich, one of her favourite German delicacies. Custard cake. She approached the stall with a plastic tub in hand, and the guy knew straightaway what she wanted. If you’re ever looking for gift ideas for Liesel, don’t forget Bienstich.

We had tortillas for dinner a few weeks ago. Unfortunately, the first batch were over-heated and discarded. When I picked up this lump of tortillas later, it felt really solid, like a paperback dropped in the bath. If you ever need a paperweight, let me know, and I’ll send the recipe.

Another Radio Northenden presenter, Hayley, and I met up for a coffee a couple of weeks ago. That’s the first time we’d met in person. Wasn’t this exciting enough to blog about at the time? Well yes, of course it was. I made notes and everything. But what’s the point of making notes if you don’t read them again afterwards?! Anyway, Hayley is lovely and we had a good chat and we know exactly how to fix all the world’s problems.

And finally, last week, our proud granddaughter was Gymnast of the Week.

She’s supposed to hand the trophy back after two weeks for the next recipient. I don’t know if she gets to keep it if she wins three times.

Ode to London

As hinted at in the previous post: we did London.

The Sun was out and after breakfast, I set off for Surbiton station. I’d checked, and all three local stations, Surbiton, Tolworth and Chessington North were a 25-minute walk from our Airbnb. I thought I’d go to Chessington, for old times’ sake. But as I walked through the door, a moment of panic set in. Suppose I missed the train? I’d have to wait half an hour. There’s a much more frequent service from Surbiton. So I turned round and walked there instead. Yes, I could have caught a bus, but neither Liesel nor I were yet convinced that travelling on buses was a good idea. Hang on, what happened to Liesel? Well, she was going to Woodmansterne to visit an old friend, Claire, whom we hadn’t seen for ages. The plan was that Liesel would meet me later on in London, at the Victoria and Albert Museum.

We debated whether or not to get Oyster Cards, as our old first generation ones might no longer work, but in the end, I just used my phone. It seems TfL work it all out nicely, so the daily fare is capped. All I had to do was remember to scan in and out. Quite a challenge for someone who hasn’t used public transport for well over 18 months. But quite exciting at the same time.

It was pleasing to see that most people on the train were wearing masks. And also nice to see that the train wasn’t packed. No standing, and nobody had to sit right next to a stranger.

Travelling into London felt so normal, despite the masks. More graffiti than I remember on the walls just before Wimbledon. Battersea Power Station is looking good, nice and clean, although harder to see now thanks to the many blocks of undoubtedly luxury apartments built at Nine Elms, close to the newly relocated US Embassy.

Waterloo Station was London to me, when I was small. A small part of me still thinks that the trains now operated by South Western Railways aren’t the genuine article. No, a real, proper train has the green livery of British Rail’s Southern Region, with slamming rather than sliding doors.

And so my long-anticipated walk in London began. Through the unusually thin crowds at Waterloo Station, past a lot of newly installed seating, very welcome I’m sure. I recalled the time most of the seating was removed to make space for ‘retail opportunities’ according to ‘public demand’, they fibbed. Down the stairs by the War Memorial and towards the South Bank. Beggars, Big Issue sellers, discarded Metro newspapers, some things never change.

‘We’re so glad to see you’. ‘We’ve missed you’. ‘Welcome back to our home’. These were the messages that greeted me as I climbed the stairs towards the Royal Festival Hall. I don’t usually speak to concrete infrastructure, but I did say it was nice to be back, thank you.

I also nodded at the bust of Nelson Mandela as I passed by and smiled at the sight of the Modified Social Benches. This is the sort of thing we love about London. Nothing wrong with being quirky.

Usually at the point, I would nip into the RFH to use their facilities, but there’s no need to go into more buildings than necessary. But we do look forward to seeing live performances here, and elsewhere, as soon as we can.

The second-hand book stalls under Waterloo Bridge were not open today. I’ve squandered many an hour here, looking at books and maps and other things that I’ve no real intention of buying.

Outside the National Theatre, I acknowledged Sir Laurence Olivier and tried to recall all the plays we’ve seen here. One day, I hope to return to see a young actor perform here: hello Lesley!

Lesley was a barista at Boxx2Boxx in Northenden, look out for her on a stage near you! Many actors while between rôles have to take temporary jobs, and another one was operating the coffee stall right outside the theatre. He was due to go to rehearsals later in the day, but meanwhile, he made me a fine cup of coffee!

Thank goodness Boris Johnson’s vanity project, the Garden Bridge, was never built, it would have ruined this stretch of the South Bank. I wonder if he’ll ever repay the millions of pounds he squandered on it?

The Post Office Tower stood proudly way over there on the other side of the river. I’ve only been inside a couple of times: once soon after I’d passed my 11+ exam. And once just a few years ago when, for charity, I climbed the stairs inside. They said it was 1,000 steps, but in the end, there were only 870, more or less. I’d trained by climbing the long staircase at Guy’s Hospital, near London Bridge, towards which I was now walking, sometimes at my own default, fast pace and sometimes slowly, to take in all the sights.

The promenade along the South Bank is known as The Queen’s Walk. Well, I’ve never seen the queen there, but I have seen David Bowie. Not the real David Bowie of course, but a sand sculpture of his image, created soon after his death in 2016. In fact, the stretch of the beach revealed when the tide is out has been used for sand sculptures for quite a while, some of them ridiculously extravagant, considering their transient nature. Today, however, there was no sculpture. In fact, the normally pristine sand has been covered with darker coloured gravel. Which is a shame.

It had rained quite hard the previous day (when we were at Polesden Lacey) and some of the Queen’s Walk was still flooded. The Great Flood of London? No, just a big puddle.

Every time I walk by the Bankside Gallery, I think I should spend some time there. But I never do. The piece of art outside lifts the spirits though. It’s a nice bit of competition for Tate Modern, a bit further along.

The buskers were out in force today, at least four along this stretch. One played an accordion, one a guitar, one a mandolin and under one of the road bridges, we were treated to a tenor performing On The Street Where You Live.

Liesel and I had thought about seeing a play at The Globe: we would be outside, after all. But in the end, we missed out on Twelfth Night and Metamorphoses. But still, what a cool building to find by the Thames. My daughter Helen and I saw Macbeth here twenty years ago and I still regret not going the following week too, when we could have seen Macbeth performed in Zulu: uMabatha.

I still wonder if The Golden Hinde is in the best location. There’s just too much going on all around it, you can’t view it well from the side. It still reminds me of the model I had when I was younger. I wonder what happened to it?

Southwark Cathedral is a good sign that we’re approaching London Bridge. I first visited this cathedral in about 2000 when the author Michael Arditti was promoting his then new book, Easter. I bought a signed copy for Sarah and when I read it, well, it was a bit more racy than anticipated. Liesel and I visited the cathedral, as tourists, more recently.

‘There are two things scarce matched in the universe: the Sun in Heaven and the Thames on Earth’. Such is the quote by Sir Walter Raleigh inscribed on the wall just round the corner from London Bridge. And looking out on the Thames at that very moment, I witnessed the passage of an Uber Boat. This service is run in partnership with Thames Clippers, and is not to be confused with a U-Boat, something far more sinister. Another item to add to the long list of ‘Things to do the next time we come to London’.

HMS Belfast is famous for, amongst other things, its forward guns aimed at Scratchwood Services on the M1. There was no sign of them being fired today, but there were a lot of people on board a very interesting ship.

Liesel and I did the tour of Tower Bridge a few years ago, including avoiding walking on the glass panels in the floor of the high level walkway. Obviously, you always hope the bridge will open while you’re watching, but you have to time it just right. No sign of it opening today. And I wish I could stop thinking of the Spice Girls’ bus jumping over the opened bascules in the fabulous film Spiceworld. All expense was spared on the special effects.

London City Hall is I’m sure a hive of industry, especially as the Greater London Authority will be moving to new premises by the end of the year. We’ve only been inside once, and enjoyed walking up the spiral slope.

Over the river is the Tower of London. Again, a place I first visited as a child (I still have the little booklet, priced 1/6d) and again since then a few times with various family members visiting from afar.

I was taken aback by the number of people walking across Tower Bridge. As a pedestrian, you’re meant to keep left, according to signage on the ground, presumably to assist in Covid-inspired social distancing. I think more than 50% of people were complying, but I didn’t want to hang around longer than necessary and count!

One happy couple were being photographed, and it was fun to watch a professional photographer at work. The bride and groom spent a long time arranging the veil to blow in the wind, which to be honest, was not being very cooperative. Of course, I’m making an assumption: maybe they were models, not a newly-wed couple. In any case, I think they wanted City Hall and The Shard in the background of their pictures. Ah yes, The Shard, another place we should visit one day but £25 just to ride up in a lift seems a bit excesive.

I strained my neck looking up at the glass floor in the overhead walkway and felt a little queasy. The thought of someone falling through and landing on my head… Or me falling over backwards into the water below…

A quick check on my phone confirmed that I still had time to walk to the V&A, but I could always catch a bus if necessary. From now on, I would remain north of the river.

There’s a small section of an old Roman wall near the Tower, a reminder that in the past, Liesel and I have joined several organised walks around London. Nearby, there are paintings decorating the walls of an underpass. One of the portraits, by Stephen B Whatley, depicts Anne Boleyn, someone to whom I am distantly related by marriage, I recently discovered.

Anne Boleyn, g-g-g-… -g-great-grandmother n times removed, or something

Tower Hill was my station of choice when I worked in the City, in Crutched Friars, to be precise. Lunchtime entertainment was sometimes provided by the Metropolitan Police Band. Today, it was mostly visitors milling about. I remembered where the public toilet was but I’d forgotten it cost 50p. Thoughtfully, they’ve installed a change machine so I changed a nice crisp £10 note for a pile of £1 and 50p coins. 50p for a pee though, that really is taking the p. On the other hand, I now had some loose change to throw into a busker’s hat, should I encounter another one.

Despite much provocation and teasing, he kept perfectly still

This part of London is a fabulous mix of old and new architecture. Old stone churches and glass and steel office blocks. Through a small gap, along a narrow road, I spotted the Monument, the one that commemorates the Great Fire of London. We’ve climbed this edifice a few times, I have certificates to prove it.

Something old, something new (don’t click on the triangle, it’s a roof, not a ‘play’ button)

It would have been nice to stick to the Thames Path, right next to the river, but there are several places where you have to deviate, thanks to building work. The smell of chlorine probably came from the swimming pool inside Nuffield Health Fitness and Well-being Club. If not, then maybe I should have reported a dangerous chemical leak.

Dear America, we have guns on the streets too

The Queenhithe Mosaic tells the story of London right from its early days. This is a terrific work of art, 30 metres in length, and what a shame it’s so far off the beaten track. This is one of those things you can look at for ages. Yes, it too is on the list for a return visit.

My collection of photos of sundials continues to grow. Polar sundials aren’t very common, so I was pleased to find one. The lady sitting next to it offered to move, but I told her to stay put and add some scale to my picture.

Over the river, beyond the Millennium Bridge, sits Tate Modern. I wanted to go in today, but you have to book online. In this I failed abysmally. The booking site must work, there were plenty of people in there, but I struggled. It kept telling me about the need to book in advance, but I just couldn’t find the actual place where I could actually book an actual timeslot. Sometimes, I despair at my own incompetence. Although, bad web design is a factor here, I’m sure.

Neither did I go into the crypt of St Paul’s Cathedral for a coffee, although I was tempted. I’d only had one so far today despite passing 101 coffee bars and vendors.

Looking south over the river, I caught my first glimpse of the London Eye. I didn’t feel the need to go on that again, but who knows, maybe we will if any future visitors are interested. I did have a dream once that it very slowly fell over and into the river but fortunately, each of the 32 capsules automatically converted to lifeboats.

And then over the river, I spotted the Oxo Tower. I’ve never ventured beyond the craft shops on the lower floors but I do recall one story related by a former postman colleague. Skip this paragraph if you’re under 18. Andy was very gleeful one day and if he told us once, he told us a dozen times that
the previous evening, he’d taken his wife up the Oxo Tower. I know, I know. Then he asked us all whether we’d ever taken our wives or girlfriends up the Oxo Tower. Sorry if you’re having your tea.

I passed by one of the dragons that guards the City of London and entered the City of Westminster, walking along Victoria Embankment.

Near Temple Station, I found another sundial. It’s not much use though. Not because it wasn’t sunny enough, but flowers have grown over the useful parts.

Earlier, I said that Waterloo Station was London for me, when I was small. Everything else was a bonus, including Victoria Embankment, and it was occasionally my job to lookout for Cleopatra’s Needle, the obelisk guarded by two sphinxes facing the wrong direction. The obelisk was completed in 1450 BC and presented to the UK in 1819 by the ruler of Egypt and Sudan, one Muhammad Ali.

As usual, when I pass by or walk over Waterloo Bridge, one old earworm rears its head, Waterloo Sunset by the Kinks. I was still humming the tune to myself as I approached St Martin’s and Trafalgar Square. Ah, Trafalgar Square, that would be a good place to stop for a coffee, I thought. Not today. The whole square was cordoned off, probably being prepared for a future event. I was delighted to see the new work of art on the fourth plinth though. I couldn’t get close enough to read the plaque, so this is from The Greater London Authority website:

Heather Phillipson’s vast physical and digital sculpture tops the Fourth Plinth with a giant swirl of whipped cream, a cherry, a fly and a drone that transmits a live feed of Trafalgar Square. Entitled THE END it suggests both exuberance and unease, responding to Trafalgar Square as a site of celebration and protest, that is shared with other forms of life. The live feed of Trafalgar Square picked up by the drone’s camera is visible on a dedicated website www.theend.today giving a sculpture’s eye perspective. (Good luck with that, I couldn’t get it to work.)

As I couldn’t walk across Trafalgar Square today, I walked around. This was when I acknowledged that I was on a giant Monopoly board. I’d just passed The Strand, here’s Trafalgar Square, I’d narrowly avoided Whitehall and was about to walk along Pall Mall.

There’s a new lion here too, between the Square and the National Gallery. It’s the only member of the Tusk Lion Trail that I saw on this occasion, a nice colourful beast. Maybe we’ll have an opportunity to hunt down some more lions on this trail one day.

Designed by John Cleese and his wife, Fish

Nelson watched over me as I crossed the roads and I was pleased to see the so-called diversity street crossing signs are still being used. They were installed for Pride 2016 and haven’t been replaced. Instead of a green man, when it’s finally time for you, a mere pedestrian, to cross the road, you see a couple holding hands, or maybe two male or two female symbols ♂️♂️ ♀️♀️ but green of course!

The Athenaeum is a lovely building to see, the home of a private members’ club that I haven’t been invited to join yet. I also passed by the back door of St James’s Palace only identifiable by the presence of two bored-looking but armed police officers. I found my way through to Green Park which was all but deserted. Even the squirrels sauntered across the paths rather than scurrying as they usually do. In the distance to my right, The Hard Rock Café on Piccadilly, but no, I wasn’t tempted to deviate for a coffee there either. In fact, I might still have a grudge against them. We tried to book a table once and they told us we couldn’t. Then, when we turned up, we couldn’t get in because it was fully booked. You should have booked, they said.

Hyde Park Corner is a nightmare whether on foot, or in a car or bus. It had to be negotiated though. I smiled when I saw Wellington Arch: I’m proud to say I cycled under it in 2005, naked. Here’s a link so some photos… oh no, sorry, I just remembered, I’ve closed that particular account. One day, I might repeat that most enjoyable bike ride around London. Not today though, I didn’t bring my bike.

Today’s long walk was taking place on Liesel’s birthday so as I walked by The Lanesborough, I wondered whether I should book afternoon tea. But then I remembered we probably wouldn’t have time. Plus, of course I wasn’t dressed properly for such a venue. We have had tea here before, though: I remember being slapped on the wrist when I tried to pour my own tea.

Knightsbridge was busy, but there was no avoiding it. I was surprised that the big street sign called the area Scotch Corner, especially since the shop after which it’s named, The Scotch House, hasn’t been there for years. I worked in the area for six years, and I was disappointed to see that the sandwich shop where I bought my breakfast after a long nightshift, Crumbs, has gone and been replaced by something far inferior.

But this pub, Tattersall’s Tavern is the first and only venue where I have consumed eight pints of beer in one sitting. That was after a very long shift at work, and in the end, just me and Bob, the manager, were leaning against the bar.

Harrods doesn’t change. Once, I went in to buy a pair of shoelaces, without success. Today, the window announced a coffee bar on the ground floor. That’ll be different, thought I. So I walked through. Do you think I could locate this coffee bar? No. Instead, I carried on and found a coffee at Steps Coffee Haus, across the road. Well, I just felt sorry for them, that their pop career hadn’t worked out. Tragedy.

Also at Harrods, many years ago, I met Ffyona Campbell. I often think of her when I’m on a ramble. She walked around the world in the ’90s and signed a book for me. The following week, Naomi Campbell was going to be signing the book that she ‘wrote’, even though, as it later emerged, she hadn’t even read it! On the other hand, it turned out Ffyona had had to ‘cheat’ in USA to keep up with planned media appearances, which is a shame. It must be painful to be extracted from The Guinness Book of Records like an unwanted, rotten, decayed tooth.

This is busy London, lots of pedestrians and lots of traffic, and I was torn between feeling imposed upon and just enjoying being in this vibrant city. I recognised some shops, but many were new to me, and the architecture is wonderful of course. Don’t ask me to describe the various styles, but when I see a new build that doesn’t fit in, I do wonder which developer bribed which councillor. Cynical? Me?

I reached the V&A just a few minutes before the agreed meeting time. This was when I received the dreadful news from Liesel that she’d only just left and would be quite late. I had both our tickets on my phone so I forwarded them to Liesel, telling her to use the second ticket, I’d use the top one. Yes, I could have waited a while before going in, but my bladder couldn’t.

In the end, although our electronic, timed tickets were checked by a person, neither was scanned electronically, so we weren’t in any real danger of being refused admission.

When Liesel arrived, I was sitting in the quadrangle with a nice cup of coffee and a large baguette, soaking up the Sun. Before I’d left this morning, Liesel had predicted that I’d walk over 20,000 steps. No way, José, I said. But she was right. At this point, the pedometer displayed over 23,000 steps. Liesel bought some (late) lunch too after which we went inside to look at some exhibits.

I quite liked the French Globe Clock, I think it would look very nice in our living room. But mostly, we looked at and admired the wrought and cast iron items. Why? I think we found ourselves going to galleries with the fewest people. In one room, a couple were dancing to the music in their heads.

Breathless is a collection of silver-plated brass instruments squashed by one of Tower Bridge’s 22-tonne lifting mechanisms. Who comes up with these weird ideas? In this case, one Cornelia Parker from Cheshire.

As it was Liesel’s birthday, it was her choice of places to eat out. She remembered a Japanese restaurant somewhere near the Southbank Centre, so we set off back along Cromwell Road, Brompton Road and Knightsbridge. Yes, I was retracing my steps, but it was a first time for Liesel to be walking along the A4. The A4! And yes, we could have caught a bus, but apart from the traffic, it really was a pleasant day for walking in the city. After crossing the glorified roundabout that is Hyde Park Corner again, we veered off to walk by Green Park, along Constitution Hill.

Of course, as tourists, we were perfectly entitled to take a selfie with Buckingham Palace in the background.

The Victoria Memorial was shining brightly in the early evening sunshine, and, what’s this? A new innovation in London transportation? A man was walking along the road, in a giant metal wireball, a steel zorb. We don’t know why, but he did say he was doing this for ninety days.

The Mall was much more busy than we’d anticipated, disappointingly so, really. I have fond memories of riding onto The Mall after my 100-mile Prudential Bike Ride back in 2014, in the aftermath of Hurricane Bertha. I dream of being fit enough to do so again.

I’ve been to the ICA, the Institute for Contemporary Arts, for a few events over the years but so far, Liesel’s missed out. Yes, it’s also on the list of places to visit one day.

Eventually we crossed the Golden Jubilee Bridge, again admiring the London Skyline to the east, beyond Waterloo Bridge. I resisted the urge to take a picture, since I already have several hundred. Unfortunately, the Japanese place has been replaced by a very stinky burger joint. So we went down to Wagamama for a very civilised meal. Plastic shields separate you from other diners, and I wonder whether they’ll keep these once the pandemic’s over? Or will we once again be forced to sit next to strangers on the bench? And you now pay by scanning a QR code on the menu, going to a website, typing in your table number and payment details. I’m not (usually) criminally minded, but I did think about entering somebody else’s table number, someone who perhaps has only ordered a couple of cheap drinks so far.

We walked back to Waterloo Station and returned to Surbiton.

I’d walked over 17 miles by this point, and while I didn’t say so at the time, I was quite relieved that Liesel had parked the car at Surbiton Station! The thought of walking back to our Airbnb after sitting down for half an hour on a train somehow didn’t appeal.

After a fairly good night’s sleep, we returned to the city. And we should have known it wouldn’t be straightforward. There’d been an ‘incident’ and all the trains were delayed. Sitting on a stationary train was the perfect opportunity to finish the book I was reading: Bitterhall by Helen McClory, so good, I gave it a 5-star review.

Later than planned then, we walked from Waterloo, along the river to Borough Market. We passed a couple of the same buskers as yesterday, and I was able to hurl some coins at them.

We were pleased to see that the Southbank Centre’s undercroft is still being enjoyed by skateboarders and graffiti artists: in fact, we caught one in the act. Also, being a bit later in the day, the book stalls were all out under the bridge, but we wasted no time browsing, we had a market with food to get to.

We acquired a picture of ourselves with St Paul’s Cathedral in the background thanks to a helpful pair of ladies who noticed that I was pretending to struggle taking the obligatory selfie.

We ate our way around Borough Market: the best chips we’ve ever had, a very cheesey cheese straw, a tasty spinach muffin. The market was nowhere near as busy as we’ve seen before, but someone talking on the phone said it was absolutely rammed.

One market’s not enough, so Liesel suggested visiting Spitalfields Market. It was a good excuse to walk along some long-neglected city streets. The Monument was gleaming in the sunshine, another selfie opp, of course.

On the way, we walked through Leadenhall Market, one of our favourites, which in contrast, was much, much busier than we’ve ever seen it. Possibly because in the past, we’ve only been here on a Sunday. The bars were all open and full of city workers probably talking shop, definitely speaking loudly, a sign of normality if ever there was one, although of course, the spectre of Covid was never far away.

Who would think that a big lump of red, molten, plastic bottles could result in such a fabulous work of art? Tatiana Wolska, that’s who. What looks like a big red balloon, in the shape of a small human, floats above us in the market, competing with the very decorative star-studded ceiling.

We found more Sculpture in the City in the form of Orphans, geometric solids made from orphaned paintings, those left behind by deceased people and unwanted by their heirs. Bram Ellens is responsible for this one, which is outside, exposed to the elements, so I hope it’s OK. I’m sure the artist knows what he’s doing.

We sat down for a break in the courtyard in front of Lloyd’s Register of Shipping in Fenchurch Street. This is just round the corner from where I once worked, in Crutched Friars, a strangely named street that we didn’t quite get around to re-visiting on this occasion.

In this courtyard is a lovely sculpture, a mirror-polished stainless steel ship, with water running down and over it, very refreshing. The office workers returning from their lunch breaks paid it no attention as they made their way upstairs, some in more haste than others.

Our wander continued, passing the site of Petticoat Lane Market, which is only open on Sundays. Lilian Knowles House was new to us, as was Donovan Bros Paper Bag shop on Crispin Street, what a quaint area. The shop was closed, but I wanted to buy some paper bags just to see if Donovan or his brother would put them in a big paper bag. And a good reminder that despite living in or near London for forty years or more, there is still plenty to explore.

We like these strange, old places, but some new ones are quite pleasing to the eye too. Of course, it was a nice sunny day today, I wonder if looks as good on a gloomy wet day?

The first thing that drew my attention in Spitalfields Market was a bronze representation of Mwashoti, an orphaned male elephant rescued a few years ago. He is just one of the Herd of Hope roaming the market, drawing attention to the plight of orphaned elephants.

The second thing I noticed was the second-hand hat stall. One day, I might decided to go for a 1950s titfer, but not today. We just walked around the market, a vibrant, colourful emporium. Yes, there was some tat, but a great place for people who collect, inter alia, old vinyl records. I had a quick browse, finding some David Bowie bootlegs that I’d not seen before. Tempted? Of course I was.

It was someone’s birthday and as she posed for photos with a cake, she was surrounded by some of the most colourful, costumed friends you could imagine. They were more than happy to have their photo taken by us more sedately dressed weirdoes.

Liesel was delighted to find Humble Crumble, a stall that she’d read about, selling pies. I think this is just one factor that later led Liesel to suggest that Spitalfields is her new favourite market in London, knocking Borough Market off the top spot.

Dogman and Rabbitgirl with Coffee is another delightful sculpture that we admired just outside, before setting off to bus stop J.

Dogman and Rabbitgirl with Coffee by Gillia and Marc

Yes, after discussion, we decided to, gulp, mask up and take a bus back to Waterloo, our first bus ride since, as far as I can remember, before the first lockdown. I didn’t even use my Old Fart’s Bus Pass (or whatever it’s called) because, well, I just forgot I could.

Fleet Street, Hoare’s Bank, The Royal Courts of Justice, Waterloo Bridge: what a fascinating, very nice, evocative bus ride.

From Waterloo, we took a train to Kingston, and this concludes two days in our glorious capital city. It was an itch that I feel has been well and truly scratched, but there are plenty more things to do and see, including theatre visits and other live performances – in London and Manchester.

We look forward to travelling on the underground again. Liesel had taken the tube from Wimbledon to South Kensington yesterday, but I totally avoided it on this occasion. Before moving away from Chessington, I had planned to visit every one of the stations on the London Underground system. It might happen one day. We were a week too early to visit the 21st century’s first new ones though: Nine Elms Station and Battersea Power Station Station, both, bizarrely in Zone 1.

Battersea Power Station way over at the back

Let me paraphrase Lord Kitchener:

          London is the place for me
          London this lovely city
          You can go to Didsbury or Manchester,
          Wythenshawe or Northenden
          But you must come back to London city
          Well believe me I am speaking broadmindedly
          I am glad to know my Mother Country
          I have been travelling to countries years ago
          But this is the place I wanted to know
          London that is the place for me.

My show on Radio Northenden this week might well be an homage to London. London is our capital city. Maybe I’ll call the show Capital Radio. That’ll confuse some people! Please join me at 4 o’clock, Friday afternoon right here, and say hello in the Chat box!

Mandelbrot Extinction

A big week in mickandlieselsanticsland – it was a big birthday for Liesel. We celebrated by going to the seaside, not once, but twice.

The car park was full, but the beach is huge, so although there were pockets of people, it was easy enough to find our own space. Luckily, we’d arrived early, because by the time we left, there was a very long queue of cars waiting to get into the car park. The final Sunday before the ‘Rule of 6’ restrictions kick in, maybe. Or just a Sunday.

These shapes are a result of small stones and fragments of shell on the beach, combined with the angle of the Sun and the wind direction. At first glance, it reminded me of some old Babylonian cuneiform writing, all those little triangles.

We had a nice long walk along the beach. The wind was borderline acceptable, quite strong but not cold. Nonetheless, for protection, I was walking along the beach with a finger in my ear like a really intense folk singer.

On Monday, lots of flowers arrived, so I was up and down stairs like an old, wheezing yoyo [edited]. The bell rang, I ran downstairs, thought it was weird because I’d ordered flowers from Interflora, not M&S, then I thought maybe Interflora uses M&S round these strange northern parts. Plus when Liesel opened the box, I thought, those don’t look like the flowers I’d ordered! The attached card revealed that this bouquet was actually from Helen and Steve. My flowers arrived a couple of hours later, I’m glad to say. And a third one from Pauline, Andrew and Rob in New Zealand arrived a little later. So far, my birthday card hasn’t arrived, which is embarrassing and very disappointing: I should have just handed an old one over in the first place. but I didn’t want to go into a shop and buy one, so I ordered it online. Oh well, there’ll be another birthday next year.

Early on birthday morning, we had a Zoom call with Jenny, Liam, Martha and William here in UK, and Helen and Adam in Australia. Martha and William sang Happy Birthday, blew out candles and ate cake. (Later in the day, William wanted to sing Happy Birthday again, but I think the main attraction was more cake.) Liesel opened her presents and it looks as though she’ll be busy for the next several weeks doing a 2000-piece jigsaw puzzle (a collage of photos of our grandchildren and our adventures, put together by Helen), and making cheese (a great idea, Jenny)!

Later on, it was good to have an online chat with Sarah in Exeter too.

We returned to Formby, and even though it was much later in the day this time, it was far less busy. Everyone’s back at work and at school now, hastening the second wave of Covid infection, presumably

We had a fantastic picnic lunch of samosas and veggie sausage rolls. The wind was less strong today, too, so overall, we had a very pleasant time. The tide was a long way out, so if there were any jellyfish around, we didn’t see them.

It was a hot day, and possibly the last really hot day of the year, if the forecast is anything to go by.

I could have made a cake, I could have gone out and bought a cake, but Liesel made her own cake, a small but perfectly formed chocolate cake. Somehow, we made it last three days. Very nice, very tasty.

We walked around the local area again a few times, visiting the river, and Fletcher Moss Park. We don’t know if our herons have migrated at all, but we haven’t seen them all week.

The Autumn colours are really coming out now.

We talked about these tall trees. Are they conifer? Or are they dancer? Answers on a postcard please!

One morning, we went out really early, the ground was covered in dew, our feet got wet, but we saw some beautiful sights.

So, the title, Mandelbrot Extinction. Any ideas? No, nor me. I woke up one day with the phrase buzzing around my head like a fly trying to get out of a room with no windows. I assume it’s the only remnant from what must have been a very interesting dream. I googled the phrase, of course I did, and there is nothing. My strange nocturnal mind has invented something brand new. At least I have a name the next time I form a rock band.There used to be a game to play on the internet: enter two random words into Google and try to get exactly one result. Googlewhacking! Well, once this blog has been published and the web crawlers have done their job, maybe Mandelbrot Extinction will be a successful Googlewhack, bringing you right back here!

Friday in Northenden was big. Up Your Street was an opportunity for local businesses to highlight their wares. Thankfully, the weather was kind, and Palatine Road and the surrounding area was very busy. Dan McDwyer and a couple of singers from his Youth Choir, part of The Choir Project, provided the entertainment outside Salutem.

As well as playing keyboards, singing and conducting his singers, he was broadcasting on Radio Northenden. And yes, it was good to see Radio Northenden in the list of participants.

Liesel and I had a fantastic breaded halloumi burger in The Northern Den, highly recommended! We met Sanny and Katie from Radio Northenden there, with (baby) Byron: he sometimes gatecrashes his Mum and Dad’s shows. It felt strange talking to people, in a restaurant, outside, because after six months of lockdown, of course, it is strange.

Before walking up the road to Up Your Street, I presented my own regular show on Radio Northenden. Because it was her birthday this week, Liesel picked all the music and there were some lovely messages from family and friends too. Due to bad planning on my part, I had to leave out a couple of the songs, and many of the stories I’d planned ended up on the cutting room floor. And now, they’ve ended up here, in this very blog. Here comes a tarted up version of the ‘script’ for Liesel’s Birthday show. Tarted up? I’ve fixed the many typographical, grammatical and punctuational errors and I’ve left out all the adverts for, and references to, Up Your Street – if you missed it, you missed it! Listen here for two hours of fab and groovy music.

Mort Stevens and his Orchestra – Theme from Hawaii Five-O
Dave Matthews – American Baby

We’ve seen Dave Matthews Band in concert a few times, with Liesel’s cousin Andrea, and Steve. And just like Whispering Bob Harris, we can’t understand why they’re not bigger here in the UK. At one show, Liesel was approached by a stranger. Liesel thought he was a ne’er-do-well, a random stranger. But no. He was only Dave Matthews’ guitar player, and he was here, at Andrea’s behest, to give Liesel a guitar pick.

Queen – Radio Gaga

I saw Queen support Mott the Hoople at Hammersmith Odeon. Liesel didn’t, on account of being a mere toddler at the time. Embarrassing. Mott the Hoople played a long set, they wouldn’t leave the stage, and the curtain came down in front of them.

U2 – Bullet the Blue Sky
Dolly Parton – Coat of Many Colours

Nope, neither of us have seen U2 nor Dolly, live.

Delighted that Liesel chose a David Bowie song, almost without prompting. You may remember the video for China Girl ends with a passionate embrace on a beach. Well, Liesel and I spent part of her birthday at Formby [see above], walking and picnicking, rather than rolling around in the surf: the tide was too far out.

David Bowie – China Girl

Liesel’s celebratory birthday meal this year, after our day at the seaside, was fish and chips from the Church Road Chippy. Sadly, they had no cheese and onion pies for me this time, so a bit of a let-down.

Unthanks – Magpie

We’ve seen them just once in concert, at the newly renovated Roundhouse in London.

Martha Tilston – Survival Guide

We’ve seen Martha probably more often than any other single artist, at various venues around the country. [Most recently]

Billy Joel – Piano Man

We’ve seen him in concert once, great show, Piano Man, Uptown Girl, Scenes from an Italian Restaurant. He invited his guitar player Mike del Guidice to sing a song. He performed Nessun Dorma and of course we sang along. Well, until security intervened.

Neil Diamond – I am I said

We wanted to see him in concert a few years ago, but the tickets were far too expensive.

Stan Getz and Joao Gilberto – Desafinado

That’s another song that I murdered while learning to play the saxophone.

Shanukh Khan and Sapna Awasthi – Chaiyya Chaiyya

I was doing all the Bollywood moves there, screwing in light bulbs, picking cherries from trees. I can’t do the pigeon head movement though. From the 1998 film Dil Se.

Adele – Skyfall

One of those songs that took a while to grow on me after being played on autorepeat on a radio station that I couldn’t switch off, when I was at work. [Chessington Delivery Office]

Gordon Lightfoot – Rainy Day People

We saw him on his first visit to the UK after a 30-year absence. He still has a great voice and some timeless songs

Bill Withers – Ain’t no Sunshine

One of Liesel’s favourite songs. Bill Withers’ first job was making toilet seats for Boeing airlines. He wrote this song during that time.

Pink Floyd – Another Brick in the wall

We haven’t seen Pink Floyd but we’ve been close. We once cycled from Bakewell to Buxton, along the A6, in the rain, as it was getting dark, an experience that Liesel doesn’t need to repeat. The reward was seeing a Pink Floyd tribute band at the Opera House. We only had time for a bag of crisps for dinner that evening. [We’d been told that buses between Bakewell and Buxton have bike racks on the front. They don’t.]

A better experience was watching Roger Waters of Pink Floyd, in Hyde Park in London. He performed Dark Side of the Moon in its entirety. I found it it incredibly moving. I don’t think Liesel quite understood why me and other fans of a certain age were in tears. That’s how powerful music can be.

Sister Sledge – We are Family
Simon and Garfunkel – 59th Bridge Street Song

We saw them at a reunion gig in Hyde Park, our first outdoor show together. Liesel was slightly intimidated by the size of the crowd, so much so, that she wouldn’t even let me go to the toilet by myself. The show was good but I don’t think Paul and Art made eye contact once, which is quite sad. The support act was The Everly Brothers.

Nina Simone – Missisippi Goddamn
Wynton Marsalis Septet – Linus and Lucy

We saw Wynton Marsalis at a late night concert many years ago, maybe it was one of the Proms that year. And we can hear a version of that song on Amy Lamé’s 6 Music show each week as she tells us what delights we can look forward to. Amy is also big fan of Christine and the Queens. During a recent interview, I wondered whether they shouldn’t just get a room.

Christine and the Queens – Christine
[Baz Luhrmann (Quinson Tarver speaking)- Everybody’s Free to Wear Sunscreen – not played because I was running out of time]
Duran Duran – Ordinary World

We nearly saw Duran Duran in concert several years ago, we had tickets, but sadly illness overtook us.

Rick Braun – Nightwalk

We saw him in concert at Pizza Express in London. We had a table right at the front. Rick left his trumpet on the stage, easily within reach. Tempted to have a go? Of course I was, but Liesel said No.

Bic Runga – When I see you Smile

We were lucky enough to see her in concert a couple of years ago, in a vineyard on an island off Auckland, New Zealand, what a beautiful day, she really made us smile.

James Taylor – Steam roller [Swear word beautifully edited out, if I do say so myself]

Of course we’ve seen James Taylor on stage! Just the once.

We’ve also seen REM: at Twickenham Stadium. They played their music, not rugby, of course.

REM – Man on the Moon
Frank Sinatra – Young at Heart

Have we seen Frank in concert? Yes, if a holographic projection counts. ‘He’ was accompanied by a live orchestra.

[Dave Matthews – What would you say? – not played, no time]
Elbow – Grounds for Divorce
PS Yes, I was surprised at how many of these artists we’ve seen perform in concert over the last 16 years or so together. What an adventure! We can’t wait for live shows to start up again.